THE  LIBRARY 

OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 

OF  CALIFORNIA 

LOS  ANGELES 


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AMERICAN 
^  V  NOBl  LI  TY 


From  the  French  of 
Pierre  DE  CouLEVAiN  osso/^ 

-J 


^-o^\/rC-  A-e^  C-o\^\e.U^\'^^  )^)^^^^ 


By 
^Aiys  Hallard 


^ 


NEW  YORK 

EPDUTTON  &  COMPANY 

PUBLISHERS 


Copyright,  1913 
By  E.  p.  button  &  COMPANY 


Ttbc  ItnlcljetBocljet  pvcee,  flew  Bw* 


*.    >•       ¥  •  » 


INTRODUCTION 

America  is  no  longer  the  New  World,  but  the  Modern 
World.  It  is  a  world  which  ought  to  awaken  our 
interest  and  our  fellow-feeling,  for,  whilst  owing  its 
origin  to  us,  it  has  grown  and  developed  outside  the 
routine  that  we  abhor  and  in  the  midst  of  the  liberty 
of  which  we  dream. 

We  fondly  imagine  that  America,  as  a  republic, 
must  be  the  ideal  nation  of  equality.  This  is  quite  a 
mistake,  for  nowhere  are  the  lines  of  demarcation  so 
distinct  and  nowhere  are  they  so  jealously  maintained. 

Towards  the  seventeenth  century,  America  was  open 
to  all  the  oppressed  and  the  discontented  and  to  all 
the  adventurously  inclined  of  the  Old  World.  Dutch- 
men came  and  settled  there  in  order  to  escape  from  the 
Spanish  yoke.  English  Puritans,  persecuted  by  the 
Stuarts,  came,  and  sectarians,  too,  from  everywhere,  in 
the  wake  of  William  Penn,  the  Quaker.  These  emi- 
grants, whom  political  or  religious  causes  had  forced 
to  leave  their  country,  did  not  mix  with  the  adven- 
turers who  had  invaded  America.  Their  religious 
faith  and  their  principles  were  as  a  holy  ark,  keeping 
them  above  the  rising  flood  of  immigration.  They 
formed  a  caste  apart,  and  this  caste  constituted  "so- 
ciety." For  a  very  long  time,  this  caste  was  quite 
inaccessible  to  parvenus.  Some  thirty  or  forty  years 
ago,  the  plutocracy  which  could  boast  of  three  degrees 
of  descent,  and  of  enormous  wealth,  forced  its  way 
into  this  sacred  circle.     It  grouped  itself  around  the 

iii 


2135024 


iv  INTRODUCTION 

"  Patriarchs,"  made  use  of  their  prestige,  surrounded 
them  and  overwhelmed  them,  so  that  at  present  these 
"  Patriarchs  "  are  nothing  more  than  the  nucleus  of 
"  society,"  a  nucleus  already  swallowed  up,  as  an 
American  has  said. 

It  is  a  fact  that  the  families  who  are  descended 
from  the  real  founders  of  the  United  States,  who  have 
genealogical  trees,  coats-of-arms  and  proofs  of  long 
existence,  have  given  way  to  the  millionaires.  The 
narrow  Puritanism  and  conservative  spirit  common  to 
these  old  families  placed  them  in  a  position  of  in- 
feriority in  the  struggle  for  power  and  money.  They 
are  now  experiencing  that  eflfacement  which  seems  to 
be  the  lot  of  the  aristocracy  everywhere. 

What  is  called  "  society  "  in  America  is  by  no  means 
an  idle  class.  Like  the  upper  bourgeoisie  in  France, 
it  is  composed  of  lawyers,  doctors,  financiers,  and  manu- 
facturers. It  forms  a  kind  of  Faubourg  St.  Germain 
which  is  more  difficult  of  access  and  more  exclusive 
than  this  class  of  society  in  Europe  at  present. 

To  be  or  not  to  be  a  member  of  "  society "  is  of 
more  interest  to  an  American  than  the  "  to  be  or  not 
to  be "  of  Hamlet,  for  the  American  is  the  most 
materialistic  person  in  the  world.  He  does  not  trouble 
about  doing  well,  but  about  "  doing  quickly."  He 
works,  builds,  and  constructs  for  himself,  and  not  for 
his  children.  As  soon  as  he  has  won  in  the  struggle 
for  money,  he  throws  himself  into  the  struggle  for 
position. 

In  order  to  get  admission  among  the  dlite  of  his 
country,  the  new  millionaire  gives  extraordinary  enter- 
tainments, spends  huge  sums  of  money  in  presents,  and 
employs  stratagems  which  would  supply  comedy  with 
some  very  amusing  scenes. 


INTRODUCTION  V 

The  growth  of  new  strata  around  "society,"  at 
jjresent,  is  something  formidable,  for,  in  America, 
emulation  is  terrific.  It  is  the  motive  power  which 
Providence  uses  for  starting  that  activity  which  both 
amazes  and  alarms  us.  The  child  wants  more  toys 
than  its  play-fellows,  the  woman  more  luxury  than 
her  friends,  and  the  man  more  dollars  than  his  col- 
leagues. To  have  more!  Under  the  influence  of  this 
stimulus,  which  urges  each  one  on,  the  New  World  is 
going  ahead,  but  the  question  is — whither  ?  According 
to  Ecclesiastes :  "  The  thing  that  hath  been,  it  is  that 
which  still  shall  be," — and  if  so  America  will  have  the 
same  ordeals  that  we  have  had,  although  they  will 
probably  take  less  time,  and  afterwards  it  will  over- 
take us  in  our  evolution.  When  it  is  covered  with 
cities  and  when  it  has  plenty  of  money  and  men,  some 
Napoleon  will  lead  it  on  to  the  conquest  of  Brazil 
and  Mexico  and  unite  all  the  continent  under  his 
sceptre.  It  will  have  military  glory,  honours,  and  dis- 
tinctions and  all  the  other  baubles  that  we  possess. 
After  this  backward  movement,  which  appears  to  be 
necessary,  it  will  shake  off  the  yoke  and  rush  on, 
purified  and  improved  by  the  ordeal  through  which  it 
has  passed,  to  the  conquest  of  life  by  means  of  science, 
self-sacrifice,  and  love. 

In  the  United  States,  the  work  of  man  is  more  re- 
markable than  the  man  himself.  The  woman  is  inter- 
esting though,  in  herself,  as  she  is  the  product  of 
ideas,  habits,  customs,  and  principles  quite  different 
from  ours. 

The  political,  as  well  as  the  ordinary,  immigrants 
found  the  struggle  harsh  and  painful,  and  in  this 
struggle  they  were  most  eflQcaciously  helped  by  their 
women.    While  the  men  were  conquering  territories. 


vi  INTRODUCTION 

digging  the  soil  and  building  towns,  the  women  were 
making  the  home. 

Freed  from  the  conventions  which  had  crushed  her, 
the  timid  wife  developed  into  a  valiant,  and  often 
heroic,  companion.  Outcast  women  purified  them- 
selves by  work  and  devotion  and,  in  the  new  society, 
woman  created  for  herself  a  wider  and  nobler  sphere. 

Man  neither  grudged  her  liberty  nor  honours.  He 
had  the  greatest  respect  and  admiration  for  her,  to- 
gether with  a  chivalrous  sentiment  which  has  been 
perpetuated,  as  the  mothers  inculcated  it  into  their 
sons.  At  present,  this  is  one  of  the  finest  traits  in 
the  American  character. 

Individually,  women  have  very  little  influence  in  the 
United  States,  but  collectively  they  are  formidable. 
They  are  quite  aware  of  this,  for  they  hold  together 
in  the  most  extraordinary  way,  and  they  certainly 
contribute  largely  to  the  progress  of  their  country. 
Their  work  is  done  by  means  of  sudden  freaks  and 
infatuations.  Fashion  rules  everything.  At  one  minute 
it  is  the  fashion  to  be  interested  in  some  particular 
branch  of  science,  and  for  the  time  being  no  one  cares 
for  anything  else.  All  at  once,  some  particular  poet 
or  prose  writer  is  in  vogue.  A  few  years  ago.  Brown- 
ing was  the  man  of  the  day,  and  after  that,  Balzac, 
whose  books  were  in  every  one's  hands.  Sometimes 
a  special  kind  of  misfortune  stirs  every  one's  pity;  it 
may  perhaps  be  blindness.  Bazaars  are  organised, 
money  comes  pouring  in,  and  blind  asylums  are 
built.  All  this  is  the  most  extraordinary  example  of 
suggestion  that  can  be  imagined. 

No  people  are  more  awake  to  the  fact  of  the  short- 
ness of  life  than  Americans.  It  i^  this  consciousness 
that  spurs  them  on,  although  they  ^re  not  really  aware 


INTRODUCTION  vii 

of  the  fact  themselves.  It  urges  men  on  to  work  and 
women  on  to  pleasure  and  makes  them  selfish.  Life 
is  short,  they  say,  so  let  us  have  a  good  time.  Life 
is  short,  so  there  must  be  no  useless  sentimentality 
nor  any  useless  acquaintances.  Everything  must  serve 
for  something,  it  must  help  onward. 

It  is  not  among  the  society  women  that  we  must 
look  for  the  greatest  virtues  and  good  qualities.  In 
America,  there  is  a  very  large  class  of  serious,  edu- 
cated women  and  it  is  these  women  who  form  the 
bulwarks  of  America,  just  as  the  provincial  and 
middle-class  women  of  France  form  the  bulwarks  of 
the  country. 

Whether  it  be  that  the  mixture  of  race,  liberty,  and 
rational  education  produces  a  distinct  variety  in  the 
feminine  genus,  or  that  the  American  woman  has  not 
yet  attained  her  full  development,  certain  it  is  that 
her  nature  is  simple,  entirely  objective,  and  that  she 
has  only  the  visual  quality. 

No  other  being  in  creation  enjoys  life  more,  or  gets 
out  of  it  more  satisfaction  and  pleasure.  Her  judg- 
ment is  neither  troubled  by  excess  of  sentiment,  nor 
by  excess  of  sensuality.  Her  vision  is  very  clear  and 
exact. 

No  brain  contains  more  impressions,  images,  and 
memories  than  that  of  the  American  woman.  The 
thousands  of  American  wives  and  daughters  who  come 
to  Europe  every  year  fulfil  an  unconscious  mission, 
as  indeed  do  all  creatures.  A  higher  Will  urges  them 
to  our  continent.  They  are  seized  with  what  they  call 
"  the  European  fever,"  which  is  a  nervous  disquietude, 
a  need  of  change,  something  similar  to  the  feeling 
experienced  by  birds  at  the  time  of  their  migration. 
And  so  these  women  set  out,  some  to  take  lessons. 


viii  INTRODUCTION 

others  to  rest  from  their  household  duties,  or  to  buy 
dress.  They  see  masterpieces  of  art,  different  coun- 
tries, and  beautiful  things  of  all  kinds.  They  take 
back  with  them  objects  of  art,  together  with  relics  of 
the  past.  Their  r61e  is  the  same  as  that  of  the  bee 
and  the  butterfly.  They  are  sent  to  fetch  a  little  of 
the  soul  of  the  Old  World,  a  little  of  its  fertilising 
pollen.  They  have  to  take  back  some  of  the  elements 
of  which  Nature  has  need  for  producing  the  artists, 
the  poets,  and  the  thinkers  who  will  be  the  glory  of 
America,  just  as  the  workers  of  to-day  are  its  power 
and  its  force. 


PART  I 


AMERICAN  NOBILITY 


CHAPTER  I 


Everything  in  the  house  of  Mrs.  Villars,  Washing- 
ton Square,  New  York,  pointed  to  an  approaching 
departure  for  Europe  and  to  a  long  absence.  In  the 
hall  a  pile  of  luggage  was  to  be  seen,  labelled  "  Paris." 
There  were  comfortable  deck-chairs  and  those  flat 
cabin  trunks  which  an  American  woman  packs  and 
unpacks  with  equal  pleasure. 

The  pictures  and  mirrors  were  all  protected,  the 
carpets  rolled  up,  and  the  chintz  summer  covers  had 
been  drawn  over  the  furniture.  On  the  walls  and  on 
the  brackets  there  were  ugly  gaps,  and  throughout  the 
house,  was  the  cold,  empty  look  of  uninhabited  places. 

The  library  was  the  only  room  which  still  had  a 
gay,  comfortable  appearance.  Notwithstanding  its 
oak  wainscoting,  its  bronze-tinted  walls,  its  Queen 
Anne  chimney-piece,  mediaeval  lantern,  painted  win- 
dows, and  well-lined  book-shelves,  the  room  had  not 
a  sober  look.  There  was  evidence  of  feminine  caprice 
in  the  crowd  of  pretty,  modern,  artistic  objects  which 
were  not  quite  in  accordance  with  the  general  style  of 
the  room.  Turkey  carpets,  bear  and  tiger  skins  were 
strewn  about  the  floor.    There  were  chairs  of  all  sizes 

3 


4  AMERICAN  NOBILITY 

and  shapes,  adorned  with  silk  coverings  or  with  balsam 
cushions.  There  were  small  sofas  with  screens  at  the 
back  and  glass-cases  filled  with  objects  of  art,  lamps 
with  wonderful  shades,  and  a  profusion  of  flowers. 

A  girl,  whose  face  and  dress  were  in  perfect  harmony 
with  this  extremely  modern  interior,  was  moving  about 
in  the  room,  putting  the  illustrated  papers  and  reviews 
into  the  drawers  of  the  long  table  which  stood  in  the 
middle  of  the  library. 

WTiile  her  back  was  turned  towards  the  door,  a 
visitor  appeared  beneath  the  raised  curtains.  He  was 
about  thirty  years  of  age  and  his  irreproachable  even- 
ing dress  showed  oflf  to  advantage  his  tall  figure.  His 
clearly  cut  features  were  those  of  a  Saxon  type  and 
he  had  the  unmistakable  air  of  a  man  of  good  lineage. 
He  hesitated  for  a  few  seconds  and  then  advanced 
quietly. 

Annie  Villars  did  not  see  him  until  he  was  at  her 
side. 

"  Frank !  "  she  exclaimed,  with  a  slight  start,  "  how 
you  frightened  me!  I  was  so  busy  with  my  straight- 
ening that  I  never  saw  you  come  in." 

"Can  I  help  you?" 

"  No,  thanks,  I  have  just  finished,"  she  replied, 
closing  the  last  drawer.  "  I  shall  be  thankful  to  rest 
a  minute." 

She  led  the  way  to  the  fireplace  and,  pointing  to  a 
chair  for  her  visitor,  sat  down  herself  in  a  rocking- 
chair,  which  she  set  in  movement  with  a  push  of  her 
crossed  feet. 

"  Rock  away,"  said  Frank  Barnett,  smiling.  "  That 
is  a  pleasure  you  will  not  have  in  Europe." 

"  Do  you  mean  to  say  that  there  are  no  rocking- 
chairs  there?"  she  asked. 


AMERICAN  NOBILITY  5 

"  There  are  some,  but  they  are  uncomfortable,  heavy, 
and  difficult  to  move.  They  do  not  know  how  to  make 
them,  over  there,  and  it  is  only  in  America  that  we 
know  how  to  use  them." 

"  They  are  delightful  inventions." 

"  Yes,  and  I  am  sure  we  owe  our  best  inspirations 
to  them.  The  rocking  movement  either  lulls  or  stimu- 
lates our  ideas.  It  is  a  sort  of  accompaniment  to 
conversation  and  when  two  people,  who  are  talking  or 
flirting,  rock  together,  I  would  wager  that  they  are 
both  of  the  same  mind." 

Miss  Villars  looked  at  the  young  man  in  surprise. 

"  I  did  not  think  you  capable  of  so  much  penetra- 
tion," she  said. 

"  Thank  you,"  replied  Mr.  Barnett,  bowing.  "  It 
seems  to  me,"  he  continued  calmly,  "  that  the  rocking- 
chair  is  an  admirable  help  to  coquetry  for  a  woman. 
It  shows  off  to  advantage  her  figure  and  her  hands 
and  feet,  and  then,  too,  it  soothes  her  nerves.  An 
American  shows  what  state  of  mind  she  is  in  by  the 
way  she  rocks  herself,  just  as  a  Spanish  woman  does 
by  the  movement  of  her  fan.  When  the  movement  is 
moderate  and  regular,  she  is  in  a  peaceful  frame  of 
mind,  when  it  is  long  and  slow,  it  denotes  reflection: 
a  short,  quick  movement  means  anger  and  bad  temper. 
Just  at  present,  your  way  of  rocking  shows  that  you 
are  very  tired." 

"  I  am  not  at  all  surprised  to  hear  that,"  said  Annie 
Villars,  laughing,  "  for  I  am  dead  tired.  I  thought  we 
should  never  come  to  the  end  of  all  we  had  to  do." 

"  And  so  you  are  really  just  about  to  start  on  this 
famous  trip  to  Europe,  about  which  you  have  been 
thinking  for  so  many  years?" 

"  Yes,  and  now  that  the  moment  has  really  arrived 


6  AMERICAN  NOBILITY 

to  leave  New  York,  I  feel  so  horribly  sad.  If  I  dared, 
I  would  unpack  my  trunks  again." 

"Dare!" 

"  Oh,  it  would  be  quite  useless,  for  I  should  begin 
to  pack  once  more  within  a  couple  of  days.  Really, 
though,  I  never  thought  it  would  be  so  difficult  to  say 
good-bye.  All  day  long,  stupid  little  tears  have  kept 
coming  into  my  eyes,  making  my  nose  red.  Is  it  not 
ridiculous  ?  " 

"Ridiculous?  No,  not  at  all.  You  surely  ought 
to  feel  a  little  regret  on  leaving  your  friends  and 
relatives." 

"  It  is  very  curious,  but,  every  day,  while  I  have 
been  busy  putting  away  all  my  treasures,  I  have  had 
the  impression,  all  the  time,  that  I  should  never  see 
them  again.  I  wonder  whether  it  is  a  presentiment. 
I  am  going  to  be  drowned  on  the  way,  perhaps,  or 
die  of  fever  at  Rome,  or  of  influenza  somewhere  else. 
I  should  not  be  the  first " 

"  There  is  something  I  dread  for  you  much  more 
than  the  voyage,  fever,  or  influenza " 

"  What  is  it  you  dread?" 

"  Heiress-traps,  which  Europeans  set  so  cleverly. 
They  are  frequently  made  in  the  form  of  a  coronet. 
Even  the  most  sensible  American  looks  at  them,  only 
out  of  curiosity  at  first,  but  gradually  with  envy.  She 
goes  up  to  them,  gets  very  near — too  near — and  then 
— clack,  she  finds  herself  caught,  and  before  she  knows 
where  she  is,  she  is  a  duchess,  a  marchioness,  or  a 
countess,  and  the  thing  is  done." 

Miss  Villars  could  not  help  laughing. 

"  Frank,"  she  said,  "  you  ought  to  write  a  Guide- 
book, for  the  use  of  girls  going  to  Europe.  You  could 
point  out  to  them,  by  means  of  allegories  of  this  kind, 


AMERICAN  NOBILITY  7 

the  dangers  to  which  they  will  be  exposed  and  so  put 
them  on  their  guard." 

"  Alas,  it  would  be  so  much  time  wasted.  Titles 
and  great  names  exercise  a  fascination  which  I  do 
not  pretend  to  explain,  but  that  fascination  acts  even 
on  the  best  balanced  of  feminine  minds." 

"  You  can  be  quite  easy  about  me,  at  any  rate.  I 
have  a  position  in  society  which  quite  suffices,  as  far 
as  my  ambition  and  vanity  are  concerned.  I  am  the 
last  person  in  the  world  to  be  influenced  by  a  title. 
You  have  known  me  so  long,  that  you  ought  to  be  sure 
of  that." 

"  A  title  would  not  influence  you,  no.  But  I  am  not 
80  sure  that  a  titled  man  would  not.  Madame  de 
Keradieu  will  introduce  you  into  the  Faubourg  St. 
Germain  world  and,  with  the  best  intentions  possible, 
she  will  lead  you  right  into  the  lions'  den.  It  will  be 
a  miracle  if  you  are  not  devoured.  To  be  quite  frank, 
I  tremble  to  think  of  what  will  happen.  Your  immense 
fortune  will  excite  the  covetousness  of  unscrupulous 
men  without  any  delicacy,  men  who  are  incapable  of 
working,  either  with  their  brains  or  hands,  and  who 
want  to  marry  money,  and  nothing  but  money.  You 
will  see  them  play  the  part  of  the  disinterested  lover, 
they  will  kiss  your  hand  and  pay  you  empty  compli- 
ments. You  will  probably  be  fascinated  by  their  elo- 
quence and  their  distinguished  manners.  In  a  little 
time,  you  will  begin  to  think  American  men  prosaic, 
awkward,  and  humdrum.  Between  this  stage  and  what 
I  dread,  there  is  only  one  step." 

"  If  I  were  very  young,  you  might  be  right  in  fearing 
for  me,  but  I  am  twenty-one;  I  have  passed  the  age  of 
reason  three  times  over,  and  I  have  been  out  three 
years." 


8  AMERICAN  NOBILITY 

"  Yes,  but  tbe  society  you  frequent  is  composed  of 
people  whose  family  and  character  you  know.  Your 
experience  of  human  nature  is,  therefore,  extremely 
limited." 

"  Oh,  not  as  limited  as  you  think.  I  have  met  with 
hypocrisy  and  falsehood  enough  to  be  able  to  recognise 
them,"  answered  the  girl  drily. 

"  So  much  the  worse  and  so  much  the  better,"  re- 
turned Frank  Barnett,  calmly.  "  If  your  father  ex- 
pressed a  wish  in  his  will  that  you  should  not  go  to 
Europe  before  you  were  twenty-one,  it  was,  no  doubt, 
because  he  hoped  that  you  would  be  married  by  then, 
or,  at  any  rate,  that  you  would  be  better  able  to  defend 
yourself  against  the  enterprises  of  fortune-hunters." 

"  You  need  not  be  uneasy,  I  will  take  care  of  myself," 
said  the  girl,  with  a  look  and  accent  which  revealed 
her  strong  character.  "  No  one  will  run  away  with 
me,  or  marry  me  without  my  consent,  and  it  is  my 
firm  intention  to  come  back  again  Annie  Villars." 

"  Heaven  grant  that  you  may !  " 

These  words  were  spoken  with  such  warmth  that  a 
fleeting  colour  came  into  the  girl's  face. 

"  Oh,  as  for  you,  Frank,"  she  said,  laughing,  by  way 
of  hiding  her  confusion,  "  you  are  one  of  the  men  who 
would  neither  let  a  woman  nor  a  dollar  go  out  of 
America,  if  you  could  help  it." 

"  You  are  quite  right.  It  makes  me  furious  to  see 
our  girls  taking  to  these  idle  dandies  fortunes  which 
have  sometimes  cost  the  life,  and  nearly  always  the 
health,  of  their  fathers.  If  this  is  to  continue,  the 
day  will  come  when  we  shall  be  obliged  to  make  an 
incursion  into  Europe,  for  the  sake  of  getting  back 
our  national  wealth.  Women  are  as  ungrateful  as 
children.    They  neither  appreciate  kindness  nor  devo- 


AMEEICAN  NOBILITY  9 

tion.  In  America,  we  recognise  all  their  rights  and 
we  have  granted  them  every  privilege.  They  live  in 
a  luxury  unknown  to  Europe  and  they  have  the  lion's 
share  of  everything.  At  present,  even  that  is  not 
enough.  They  must  now  have  coronets  and,  as  we 
cannot  supply  them  with  these,  they  prefer  titled  men, 
men  who,  even  with  their  titles,  are  certainly  not  our 
equals." 

Frank  Barnett  spoke  in  a  tone  of  absolute  conviction 
that  left  no  doubt  as  to  his  sincerity. 

"  You  talk  like  our  society  papers,"  remarked  his 
companion.  "  I  must  say  that  I  do  not  approve  of 
their  systematic  attacks  on  the  aristocracy  of  Europe. 
As  soon  as  an  unfortunate  aristocrat  puts  his  foot  on 
our  soil,  they  all  attack  him,  insinuate  that  he  has 
mercenary  intentions,  publish  his  story,  and  en- 
deavour to  make  him  appear  ridiculous.  Such  fury 
is  suggestive  of  envy." 

"  Envy  ?  Oh,  no,  we  are  rich  and  powerful  enough 
to  make  that  impossible,"  answered  the  young  man, 
with  a  note  of  pride  in  his  tone.  "  We  used  to  have 
the  greatest  respect  for  the  old,  historic  names,  but 
after  seeing  descendants  of  the  Crusaders,  men  belong- 
ing to  old  Germanic  tribes,  and  scions  of  princely 
families  come  and  sell  their  names  and  parchments 
to  the  highest  bidder,  our  disillusion  is  complete.  We 
had  implicit  confidence  formerly,  but  after  that  we  had 
absolute  distrust,  and  the  consequence  is  that  a  whole 
class  is  now  treated  by  us  with  the  scorn  that  just  a 
handful  of  spendthrift  degenerates  deserve.  I  myself 
was  so  prejudiced  about  the  aristocracy  that,  when 
my  sister  Mary  informed  me  she  was  going  to  marry  an 
Austrian  Count,  I  was  furious,  for  I  felt  humiliated." 

"  Yes,  I  remember,"  said  Annie,  "  and  now  you  spend 


10  AMERICAN  NOBILITY 

weeks  in  her  country-house  and  at  the  houses  of  her 
friends.  You  frequent  the  society  of  princes  and  dukes 
to  such  a  degree  that  you  will  surely  be  accused  of 
snobbishness  yourself." 

Frank  Barnett  coloured  slightly. 

"  Snobbishness  belongs  to  the  parvenu,  and  at  least 
I  am  not  a  parvenu.  During  the  five  years  that  I 
have  mixed  with  what  is  called  upper-class  society  in 
Europe,  I  have  had  time  to  study  it.  It  is  better 
than  I  thought  it  was.  Its  every-day  life  is  less 
strained  and  goes  more  smoothly  than  ours,  so  that 
one  has  a  real  sense  of  rest.  I  must  own  that  a  man 
with  the  real  qualities  of  the  old  nobility  is  a  fine 
specimen  of  humanity.  I  told  you,  for  instance,  that 
I  met  the  Duke  of  Orleans,  this  last  autumn,  in 
Bohemia,  at  Prince  Varna's.  We  went  out  shooting 
together  for  about  a  week.  He  was  simply  delightful. 
Several  times,  when  speaking  of  France,  his  eyes  filled 
with  tears,  and  this  did  not  seem  at  all  ridiculous. 
When  I  was  leaving,  he  said  to  me :  *  You  are  lucky 
to  be  able  to  go  to  Paris,  I  envy  you.'  There  was  such 
sincere  grief  in  his  voice  when  he  said  this,  that  I 
was  quite  touched  by  it.  If,  by  giving  a  million  dol- 
lars, I  could  have  helped  him  to  get  the  law  repealed 
by  which  he  is  exiled,  I  would  certainly  have  given 
them." 

"  A  nice  thing  for  a  republican  to  do,"  remarked 
Annie. 

"  The  men  of  the  aristocracy  are  not  worth  much 
from  an  American  point  of  view,  as  they  lack  the  energy 
necessary  for  reaction.  Their  charm,  though,  cannot 
be  denied.  They  give  you  the  impression  of  extremely 
refined  and  highly  developed  individuals  and  when  this 
is  not  carried  too  far,  they  are  perfect." 


AMERICAN  NOBILITY  11 

"  Like  the  Duke  of  Orleans,  for  instance  ?  "  suggested 
Annie,  archly. 

"  Yes,  like  the  Duke  of  Orleans,"  agreed  Frank 
Barnett.  "  Unfortunately  most  of  them  are  no  longer 
at  their  best,  they  have  deteriorated.  There  seems  to 
be  a  sort  of  flaw  or  blemish  in  their  character,  or  in 
their  moral  attitude,  just  as  there  are  cracks  in  old 
china.  I  think  they  are  all  brave,  though,  and  capable 
of  heroic  deeds." 

"  That  is  something." 

"  Not  much.  Heroism  is  rarely  needed  in  modern 
life.  Energy  and  straightforwardness  are  the  two 
most  necessary  things.  It  would  not  be  much  con- 
solation to  you  to  know  that  your  husband  was  brave 
and  ready  to  die  for  his  country,  if  he  were  unfaithful 
to  you  and  made  you  unhappy." 

"  No,  indeed." 

"  I  should  think  it  quite  natural,  and  even  intelligent, 
if  the  aristocracy  wanted  to  rejuvenate  by  means  of 
marriage  with  foreigners,  but  it  is  not  that  at  all. 
Rich  aristocrats  marry  women  belonging  to  their  own 
world.  It  is  only  those  who  are  ruined  or  worse  who 
come  in  search  of  the  American  woman.  It  certainly 
is  not  very  flattering  for  her." 

"  Oh,  as  far  as  that  is  concerned,  we  have  paid  them 
back  in  their  own  coin.  Most  of  the  American  girls 
who  have  married  aristocrats  are  parvenues.  Unable 
to  get  into  society  in  our  country,  they  have  gone  to 
Europe  and  bought  titles." 

"  And  when  they  have  come  back  to  us  as  princesses 
or  duchesses,  we  have  received  them " 

"  Why,  of  course,  since  the  husband  is  supposed  to 
ennoble  the  wife.  I  should  have  done  the  same  thing 
in  their  place.    Life  is  short,  so  that  we  must  get  the 


12  AMERICAN  NOBILITY 

most  satisfaction  and  enjoyment  we  can  out  of  it. 
Personally,  I  would  not  give  up  the  position  I  hold 
in  New  York  society  merely  to  become  a  parvenue  in 
any  Faubourg  St.  Germain  in  the  world.  It  would 
be  simply  stupid." 

"  It  certainly  would  and,  between  ourselves,  Ameri- 
can women  are  not  seen  to  advantage  in  the  midst  of 
an  aristocratic  gathering.  I  have  been  struck  by  this 
repeatedly,  so  that  it  must  be  as  I  say.  Some  of  them 
are  stiff  and  paralysed,  as  it  were,  by  timidity,  whilst 
others  put  on  too  much  assurance  and  familiarity. 
Although  they  may  be  prettier  and  more  elegant  than 
most  of  the  duchesses  and  marchionesses,  they  do  not 
come  up  to  them." 

"  And  why  not,  pray  ?  "  asked  Annie  Villars,  in  a 
slightly  vexed  tone. 

"  Because  European  women  put  a  certain  art  into 
all  they  do  or  say.  In  the  middle  class,  this  art  is 
too  evident  and  often  appears  afifected.  Among  the 
grandes  dames,  though,  it  is  not  evident,  for  they  are 
consummate  actresses,  but  it  has  required  long  cen- 
turies to  bring  them  to  this  state  of  perfection.  Side 
by  side  with  them,  natural  American  women  are  un- 
mistakably young,  and  they  appear  prosaic  and  even 
vulgar.  They  have  the  same  eflFect  as  newly  em- 
broidered flowers  on  a  foundation  of  old  silk.  There  is 
something  harsh  that  does  not  blend.  And  then,  you  see, 
European  men  do  not  appreciate  such  '  simple '  women. 
They  have  seen  too  much  of  life  for  that.  They  like 
coloured  lips,  eyes  that  have  been  touched  up,  and  scien- 
tific coquetry.  I  have  seen  behind  the  scenes  in  many 
of  these  European-American  homes.  In  those  where  the 
husband  and  wife  got  on  the  best,  it  always  seemed  to 
me  that  they  did  not  understand  each  other  at  all." 


AMERICAN  NOBILITY  18 

"  And  yet  these  foreign  marriages  generally  appear 
to  turn  out  well." 

"  Thanks  to  the  wife's  abnegation.  An  American 
woman  will  make  sacrifices  for  her  European  husband 
such  as  she  would  never  make  for  a  man  of  her  own 
country.  This  always  makes  me  furious.  We  have 
produced  a  great  nation,  but  we  have  not  succeeded 
in  bringing  out  the  true  qualities  of  our  women.  We 
have  spoilt  them  and  they  now  treat  us  as  their  slaves. 
They  really  and  truly  consider  themselves  as  our 
superiors.  When  an  American  woman  marries  a 
European  though,  she  becomes  yielding  and  obedient, 
she  is  satisfied  with  anything,  and  accommodates  her- 
self without  a  murmur,  to  the  tastes  of  her  lord  and 
master.  You  really  would  not  recognise  her.  You  may  be 
quite  sure,  though,  that  the  apprenticeship  for  all  these 
American  princesses,  duchesses,  and  marchionesses  has 
been  a  very  hard  one.  They  have  not  cared  to  own 
to  all  the  mortifications  they  have  endured.  I  now  be- 
lieve that  Providence  sends  some  of  our  girls  to  EYance 
and  to  Italy,  so  that  they  may  learn  their  true  r61e." 

"  I  am  very  curious  to  see  all  these  things  and  these 
people  for  myself,"  said  Annie  Villars.  "  You  have 
told  me  your  impressions  and  I  will  tell  you  mine. 
They  will  probably  be  quite  different,  and  then  how 
we  shall  argue !  " 

"You  do  not  intend  to  stay  more  than  a  year?" 
asked  the  young  man,  with  visible  anxiety. 

"  Oh,  no.    We  must  be  back  for  Clara's  wedding." 

"  ^Tiile  you  are  away,  I  shall  finish  furnishing  and 
arranging  my  house.  Opening  all  the  cases  of  curi- 
osities I  have  brought  back  from  the  four  quarters  of 
the  earth  will  entertain  me.  I  have  really  forgotten 
what  is  inside  them  all." 


14  AMERICAN  NOBILITY 

"  Shall  I  tell  you  what  you  might  do?  "  said  Annie, 
suddenly. 

"  Yes." 

"  George  Ottis  is  to  join  us  in  Rome,  in  December. 
You  might  come  with  him." 

"  Do  you  really  mean  it  ?  "  asked  Frank  Barnett,  his 
voice  trembling  slightly  and  his  face  lighting  up  with 
joy. 

"  Yes,  I  wish  you  would.  Clara  will  monopolise 
George,  of  course,  and  mother  and  I  would  then  be 
i*educed  to  our  own  society — which  would  not  be  at 
all  amusing,"  added  Annie,  with  that  somewhat  brutal 
frankness  which  characterises  the  American  woman. 

The  young  man's  face  darkened.  Annie  Villars  had 
been  playing  with  him  in  this  way  for  the  last  three 
years. 

"  Right,"  he  answered,  "  I  will  come  to  Rome.  And 
now  I  will  say  good-bye  and  wish  you  a  pleasant 
journey." 

"  Shall  you  not  be  at  the  boat  to-morrow  ?  " 

"  No,  I  am  going  to  Lenox  early  in  the  morning.  I 
should  not  care  to  be  lost  in  the  crowd  of  your  ad- 
mirers. I  preferred  coming  to  say  farewell  in  a  less 
wholesale  manner.  You  will  have  plenty  of  people 
without  me  to  give  you  a  good  send-oflf.  A  good 
send-oflf,  a  bevy  of  friends,  and  plenty  of  flowers. 
Girls  only  care  for  that  sort  of  thing  nowadays.  It 
is  a  triumph  for  them  and  shows  their  importance  in 
society  life." 

"  Why  not  say  at  once  that  we  are  the  vainest 
creatures  on  earth?"  remarked  Annie,  colouring  with 
pique. 

Frank  Barnett,  evidently  not  wishing  to  protest,  rose 
with  a  smile. 


AMERICAN  NOBILITY  15 

"  Forgive  me  teasing  you  this  time,  and,  while  you 
are  about  it,  forgive  all  my  past  sins." 

"  Oh,  I  forgive  you.    You  may  depart  in  peace." 

"  And  Annie,  if  I  can  be  of  any  use  to  you,  at  any 
time,  you  have  only  to  let  me  know.  I  am  entirely 
at  your  service.  You  have  neither  father  nor  brother 
and  we  are  such  old  friends." 

Annie  Villars  seemed  to  be  slightly  troubled  by  these 
words.  "  I  shall  not  forget,"  she  answered,  speaking 
more  gently. 

"And  do  not  get  transformed  into  a  duchess  or  a 
marchioness,"  added  Frank,  "  for  we  cannot  do  without 
you." 

"  There  is  no  fear  of  that.  I  shall  come  back  to 
the  land  of  rocking-chairs.  I  shall  come  back,"  she 
repeated,  with  the  imperturbable  assurance  of  the 
human  being  who  believes  in  free-will.  "  Have  you 
seen  mother  and  Clara  ?  "  she  asked,  rising  in  her  turn. 

"  Yes,  I  have  said  good-bye  to  them." 

"  Well,  then,  farewell  till  we  meet  in  Rome,  in 
December." 

"  Good-bye." 

The  two  looked  straight  into  each  other's  eyes  for 
a  second  and  then  shook  hands  quickly,  but  heartily. 
Frank  Barnett  then  turned  towards  the  door  and 
walked  very  slowly  away.  When  once  she  was  alone, 
it  was  as  though  a  vague  intuition  told  Annie  that 
love  and  happiness  were  within  reach,  for  she  made 
a  movement  forwards  and  her  lips  moved,  as  though 
she  were  about  to  call  the  young  man  back.  She  stood 
still  again  and  remained  mute  until  the  closing  of  the 
hall-door  told  her  that  Frank  Barnett  had  left  the 
house.  She  sat  down  and  the  little  tears  she  had 
qualified  as  "  stupid  "  came  once  more  into  her  eyes. 


16  AMERICAN  NOBILITY 

A  tall,  fair-haired  girl,  wearing  a  most  becoming 
dress,  rushed  into  the  room,  like  a  whirlwind,  and 
planted  herself  straight  in  front  of  Annie. 

"Well?"  she  asked. 

"Well!    What?" 

"  Has  Frank  proposed?    Are  you  engaged?  " 

"  Engaged  ?    Are  you  mad  ?  " 

"  Good  heavens,  has  he  gone  away  without  saying 
anything?  " 

As  though  overwhelmed  with  disappointment,  Clara 
May  sank  down  on  the  carpet,  at  her  cousin's  feet. 

"  T  was  hoping  that,  at  the  last  moment,  the  fear 
of  losing  you  would  untie  his  tongue.  It  really  is  too 
stupid,  for  it  is  so  evident  that  he  is  in  love  with  you. 
A  blind  man  would  guess  it,  by  the  very  sound  of 
his  voice  when  he  speaks  to  you.  With  all  his  fine 
feeling,  in  keeping  silence  out  of  delicacy,  he  is  run- 
ning the  risk  of  losing  you,  for  all  the  poverty-stricken 
aristocrats  we  shall  meet  will  not  have  such  scruples 
and  will  not  be  so  discreet." 

Annie  Villars  stopped  her  rocking-chair  abruptly. 

"  Oh,  do  be  quiet,"  she  exclaimed.  "  I  have  been 
warned  and  put  on  my  guard  quite  sufficiently,  thank 
you.  It  is  as  though  you  had  all  agreed  together  to 
spoil  the  pleasure  of  my  trip  for  me."  She  then 
started  rocking  herself  again,  in  a  way  that  betrayed 
her  annoyance. 

"  You  have  been  to  Europe  and  come  back  again," 
she  continued,  after  a  slight  pause. 

"  Yes,  but  we  have  not  the  same  character  at  all. 
You  are  much  more  impressionable " 

"  You  might  as  well  say,  at  once,  that  I  am  senti- 
mental and  romantic." 

"  Oh,  no,  thank  heaven,  you  are  not  as  bad  as  that 


AMERICAN  NOBILITY  17 

Still  I  think  you  could  more  easily  be  persuaded  into 
anything  than  I  should  be.  And  then,  too,  you  have 
an  independent  fortune,  and  a  fortune  big  enough  to 
tempt  a  Royal  Highness.  The  newspapers  will  not 
fail  to  announce  the  arrival  in  Paris  of  the  wealthy 
Miss  Villars  of  New  York.  Think  of  the  effect  that 
will  produce.     I  simply  tremble  to  think  of  the  result." 

"  Make  your  mind  easy.  I  shall  never  marry  a 
foreigner,  and  much  less  a  poor  foreigner.  It  is  not 
that  I  should  grudge  my  money,  but  I  should  be  afraid 
of  being  married  for  my  money.  You  need  not  worry, 
for  the  man  is  not  yet  born  who  could  make  me  give 
up  America  for  him." 

"  Well,  I  only  hope  he  is  not,  but  I  shall  keep  my 
eyes  open.  Only  imagine  what  our  poor  aunts  would 
say  if  you,  a  Villars,  the  daughter  of  their  brother, 
Philip,  should  marry  a  Frenchman  or  an  Italian — and 
a  Catholic.  They  would  make  themselves  ill  over  it 
and  they  would  never  forgive  you.  The  reason  they 
insisted  on  my  going  with  you  is  that  they  have  no 
faith  in  your  mother  seeing  through  the  wiles  that 
will  beset  you.  I  might  add  that  I  am  'giving  a  good 
proof  of  my  devotion  to  you,  as  I  certainly  would  not 
leave  George  just  now  for  any  one  else." 

"  Yes,  but  you  might  as  well  own  that  you  are  not 
sorry  to  go  to  Paris  to  get  your  trousseau." 

"  Quite  true,  but  I  should  not  have  gone  expressly 
for  that." 

Whilst  talking,  Clara  had  taken  the  hairpins  out  of 
her  hair  and  it  now  fell  over  her  shoulders  in  a  thick, 
wavy  mass.  She  shook  it  back  from  her  forehead,  like 
a  mane,  and  then  rose  from  the  floor. 

"  You  have  not  done  anything  here  yet,"  she  said, 
looking  round  the  library. 


18  AMERICAN  NOBILITY 

"  I  have  put  all  the  papers,  reviews,  and  engravings 
away  in  the  drawers." 

"Can  I  help  you?" 

"No,  thank  you." 

"  Well,  it  is  half-past  ten." 

When  Annie  was  once  more  alone,  she  went  on  with 
her  task.  The  glass-cases  were  already  too  full,  but 
she  packed  many  of  her  treasures  in  the  bowls  and 
so  made  more  room  for  them.  Every  now  and  then 
she  would  take  either  a  photograph  or  a  curio  to  the 
light  of  the  lamp,  in  order  to  have  a  last  look  at  it. 
It  was  pitiful  to  see  the  girl's  hands  stripping  the 
cheerful  room  and  preparing  it  for  silence  and  deser- 
tion. When  she  had  put  everything  away  from  the 
chimney-piece,  the  brackets,  and  the  little  tables,  she 
drew  the  silk  curtains  across  the  shelves  of  the  book- 
cases and  then  glanced  round  the  room  to  see  that 
everything  was  right  and  as  though  to  bid  everything 
farewell.  She  then  went  away,  with  a  grave  face, 
little  thinking  that  she  had  taken  the  first  steps  in 
a  direction  which  she  had  never  intended  to  follow. 


CHAPTER  II 

The  Villars  family  occupied  a  prominent  position 
in  New  York  society,  even  among  the  particular  set 
known  as  the  "  Patriarchs."  They  came  of  a  race 
known,  from  father  to  son,  for  its  sound  and  somewhat 
austere  integrity.  Their  ancestor,  the  younger  son 
of  an  aristocratic  family  still  existing  in  England, 
had  been  shut  up  in  the  Tower  of  London,  for  his 
advanced  opinions.  He  had  managed  to  escape  and 
had  taken  refuge  in  the  New  World,  where  he  had 
founded  a  family,  to  whom  he  had  bequeathed  his 
republican  ideas. 

Annie's  father,  Philip  Villars,  had  been  a  celebrated 
lawyer  and  a  man  of  strict  integrity.  He  had  died 
young  as  the  result  of  a  hunting  accident  and,  in  his 
will,  he  had  expressed  a  wish  that  his  daughter  should 
not  go  to  Europe  before  her  twenty-first  birthday.  He 
had  supposed,  as  Frank  Barnett  had  said,  that  by  that 
time  Annie  would  be  married.  As  an  American  father 
very  rarely  interferes  with  the  liberty  of  his  children, 
he  must  have  been  very  much  afraid  of  the  manoeuvres 
of  fortune-hunters. 

When  Annie  Villars  had  come  out,  at  a  magnificent 
ball,  she  had  been  classed,  not  among  the  "  belles,"  but 
among  the  girls  known  as  "  sweet,"  which  means  charm- 
ing, and  the  epithet  was  certainly  justified.  She  was 
of  medium  height,  with  good  figure  and  graceful  out- 

19 


20  AMERICAN  NOBILITY 

lines.  She  had  an  exquisite  complexion,  rather  fair 
dark  hair,  deeply  tinged  with  gold,  whilst  the  joy  of 
living  was  reflected  in  her  brown  eyes  and  lighted  up 
her  whole  face.  Her  features  were  small  and  the  whole 
face  childlike,  with  a  slightly  retrousse  profile  and  a 
remarkable  expression  of  force  and  will  about  the  chin 
and  mouth.  She  rather  lacked  grace  and  gentleness. 
Her  step  was  short  and  quick,  her  movements  brusque, 
and  her  way  of  speaking  somewhat  abrupt.  Her  voice 
had  been  cultivated  and  had  lost  that  nasal  intonation 
so  displeasing  to  English  ears,  but  it  was  a  little  harsh 
and  monotonous.  In  spite  of  these  characteristic  de- 
fects, which  would  only  be  noticed  by  foreigners,  she 
could  be  very  charming.  There  was  a  something  joyous 
and  brilliant  about  her,  which  gave  the  impression  of 
a  happy,  healthy,  good-natured  creature. 

Annie  Villars  had  grown  up  in  a  bright  atmosphere, 
without  let  or  hindrance.  Her  childhood  had  not  been 
darkened  by  constant  restrictions.  She  had  always 
been  accustomed  to  perfect  freedom,  to  the  exercise  of 
her  own  will,  of  her  faculties,  and  of  her  various  tastes. 
She  had  chosen  her  companions,  her  toys,  her  little 
frocks,  her  sashes,  and  the  ribbon  for  her  hair.  Her 
religious  devotions  consisted  in  a  short  prayer,  night 
and  morning,  a  respect  for  the  Bible,  and  the  observ- 
ance of  the  Sabbath  day.  As  for  morality, — she  had 
a  horror  of  lies  and  of  all  vulgarity  and  she  was 
charitably  inclined.  Her  daily  teaching  had  been 
simply  the  good  example  of  the  persons  around  her. 
This  was  all,  but  it  had  suflSced  for  making  her 
straightforward  and  kind-hearted. 

From  the  age  of  fourteen  to  eighteen,  study  and 
agreeable  physical  exercise  had  kept  Annie  from  un- 
wholesome reverie  and  morbid  idleness,  so  that  she 


AMERICAN  NOBILITY  21 

had  passed  through  this  critical  age  and  developed 
triumphantly. 

From  the  time  she  had  come  out,  her  life  had  been 
a  succession  of  festivities.  In  America,  the  real  society 
women  are  the  young  girls,  as  there  is  absolutely 
nothing  to  hold  them  back  in  their  ardent  pursuit  of 
pleasure.  They  are  the  ones  to  set  the  fashion  and 
to  lead  the  dance.  The  married  women  are  content  to 
follow.  They  commence  their  day  early.  At  eight 
o'clock  they  are  up  and  dressed.  They  partake  of  the 
substantial  breakfast  served  to  the  workers  of  the 
family,  just  as  the  Puritan  ancestors,  dressed  in  their 
coarse  gowns  and  cambric  fichus,  did  before  them.  As 
soon  as  the  men  have  gone  to  business,  the  girls  swarm 
into  town,  like  so  many  bees.  The  city  belongs  to  them 
absolutely,  and  thej'  are  just  as  safe  there  as  though 
they  were  walking  about  in  their  own  garden.  They  do 
their  shopping,  go  here  or  there  in  search  of  news,  at- 
tend lectures  or  charity  meetings,  lunch  at  each  others' 
houses,  or  even  at  a  restaurant.  Luncheon  is  specially 
the  woman's  meal.  After  all  this  they  go  home,  dress 
for  the  afternoon,  and  pay  visits  or  go  to  receptions, 
where  they  meet  the  young  men  of  their  set.  The  day 
ends  with  dinners,  balls,  theatres,  etc.  They  have  had 
altogether  some  eighteen  or  twenty  hours  of  pleasure. 

Annie  Villars  was  one  of  the  most  popular  of  New 
York  society  girls.  None  received  more  homage,  more 
flowers,  and  more  sweetmeats  than  she  did.  Ameri- 
cans are  not  as  disinterested  nowadays  as  they  used 
to  be.  Annie's  position  and  her  great  wealth  had 
something  to  do  with  her  success,  but  her  personal 
attractions  and  her  agreeableness  were  also  appre- 
ciated. She  had  done  her  share  of  flirting,  too,  but 
always  in  a  dignified  way. 


22  AMERICAN  NOBILITY 

Flirting  is  no  more  dangerous  for  the  American  girl, 
as  a  rule,  than  the  liberty  she  enjoys.  She  has  grown 
up  with  the  young  men  in  her  set  and  has  known  them 
all  her  life.  This  social  fraternity,  added  to  the  re- 
spect which  the  American  man  has  for  women,  makes 
it  impossible,  or  at  least  a  very  rare  thing,  for  the 
flirtation  to  be  carried  too  far.  It  is  merely  a  delight- 
ful pastime,  composed  of  three  parts  of  vanity  and 
only  one  of  sentiment.  Transatlantic  flirtation  is  love 
in  very  small,  harmless  doses,  just  enough  to  make 
the  heart  beat  and  lend  to  life  some  emotion  and 
interest.  The  American  woman  has  discovered  how  to 
play  with  fire  without  burning  herself.  She  takes  the 
best  and  most  exquisite  part  of  love  and  leaves  the 
rest,  disdainfully,  to  women  of  a  lower  order. 

In  spite  of  all  that  has  been  said  of  it,  flirting  in 
the  United  States  is  comparatively  innocent.  The 
moral  and  physical  education  of  the  American  man  is 
a  safeguard.  He  sees  in  every  girl  the  wife  and  mother, 
the  sacred  institution  of  the  family,  and  he  dare  not 
lay  a  sacrilegious  hand  on  that.  He  does  not  attempt, 
like  the  European,  to  poetise  his  animal  passions,  as 
he  is  more  ashamed  than  proud  of  them.  He  does  not 
behave  towards  a  woman  as  her  master,  but  rather  as 
her  subject.  He  treats  her  as  his  queen  and  awaits 
from  her  his  signal  and  her  favours. 

Flirting  with  girls  then  is  carried  on  in  a  respect- 
ful way,  but  flirtation  with  married  women  is  quite 
another  thing,  as  the  ever-increasing  number  of 
divorces  goes  to  prove. 

Morality  will  have  its  public  scandal  in  America, 
and  when  things  have  come  to  a  crisis  they  will  be 
readjusted. 

Annie  had  had  many  admirers,  but  not  one  of  them 


AMERICAN  NOBILITY  23 

had  inspired  her  with  any  serious  feeling  of  attach- 
ment. She  had  a  secret  preference  for  Frank  Barnett. 
He  was  handsome,  distinguished,  and  then  he  talked 
in  an  agreeable  way.  As  he  was  wealthy,  he  had  never 
been  compelled  to  choose  any  profession  and  his  long 
visits  to  Europe  had  added  a  certain  refinement  to 
his  conversation  and  his  general  education.  For  the 
last  three  years  he  had  been  Annie's  knight.  He  had 
kept  her  supplied  with  the  rarest  flowers  and  had 
always  reserved  the  best  place  on  his  mail-coach  and 
his  yacht  for  her.  For  all  this,  he  had  been  repaid, 
at  least,  by  very  sincere  friendship.  The  idea  that 
Frank  might  some  day  become  her  husband  had  often 
occurred  to  her  and  was  not  at  all  displeasing  to  her 
either. 

Frank  Barnett  had  many  times  been  on  the  verge 
of  declaring  his  love,  but,  as  Annie  had  always  told 
him  that  she  should  not  marry  until  she  had  been  to 
Europe,  he  had  always  refrained.  He  did  not  care  to 
risk  a  refusal,  for,  with  a  knowledge  of  his  own  pride 
and  of  Annie's  character,  he  had  felt  that  such  a 
refusal  might  be  final. 

For  some  years  past,  this  trip  to  Europe  had  been 
Annie's  one  desire.  She  must  have  been  very  devoted 
to  her  father  not  to  have  resented  the  sacrifice  he  had 
imposed  on  her.  An  American  woman  has  the  keenest 
curiosity  and  Annie's  had  been  sharpened  by  the  stories 
her  various  friends  had  told  her.  Sometimes,  on 
watching  them  pack  or  unpack,  tears  of  envy  had 
come  into  her  eyes.  During  the  last  three  months,  she 
had  been  studying  all  the  Guides,  tracing  a  hundred 
different  routes,  and,  as  she  came  of  age  on  the  20th 
of  January,  she  had  taken  her  ticket  on  the  Bourgogne, 
which  set  sail  on  the  25th. 


24  AMERICAN  NOBILITY 

Annie  had  a  distant  cousin,  ten  years  older  than 
herself,  who  had  married  a  Frenchman,  a  certain 
IJaron  de  Keradieu.  The  previous  summer,  this  cousin 
had  spent  a  few  weeks  with  Mrs.  Villars  at  their 
country  house.  She  had  advised  Annie  and  her  mother 
to  settle  down  in  Paris  for  the  season,  and  had  promised 
to  introduce  them  into  society  there.  The  prospect 
of  balls  and  of  all  kinds  of  gaieties  added  consider- 
ably to  the  excitement  of  the  European  trip  for  Annie 
and  Clara.  The  various  warnings  Annie  had  received 
had  the  effect  of  making  her  all  the  more  anxious  to 
meet  some  of  the  young  aristocrats  of  whom  she  had 
been  told.  She  loved  danger  and,  in  her  heart  of 
hearts,  she  rather  hoped  that  she  might  have  some 
kind  of  adventure  which  would  enable  her  to  baffle 
the  plots  of  some  avaricious  young  nobleman  and  show 
him  that  an  American  girl  of  good  family  is  not 
tempted  by  titles. 

Annie's  two  spinster  aunts  were  very  nervous  about 
the  trip  for  their  niece.  Their  fears  were  based  on 
certain  old  memories  hidden  away  in  their  hearts. 
When  they  had  been  young  and  pretty,  very,  very 
many  years  ago,  one  of  them  had  come  near  marrying 
a  Roman  prince  and  the  other  a  Neapolitan  count.  At 
the  very  last  moment,  they  had  decided  otherwise,  for 
they  belonged  to  that  type  of  American  woman  which, 
at  present,  is  almost  extinct — the  American  woman 
who  would  put  her  Protestant  faith  and  her  country 
above  everything  else  in  the  world. 

The  Misses  Villars  had  never  married  and  they  had 
devoted  themselves  entirely  to  charitable  works.  They 
did  not  go  much  into  society  and  they  were  not  very 
agreeable  women,  but  they  had  a  great  deal  of  influ- 
ence, nevertheless,  in  social  circles.     It  was  thought  a 


AMERICAN  NOBILITY  25 

great  honour  to  know  them  and  to  be  invited  to  their 
house.  They  had  simply  worshipped  their  brother, 
Philip. 

A  brother  is,  perhaps,  the  only  man  that  the  Ameri- 
can woman  spoils  and  respects,  so  that  they  now 
bestowed  on  Annie  all  their  affection.  She  always 
knew  just  how  to  manage  them  and  how  to  obtain 
their  forgiveness  for  her  frivolity. 

The  idea  of  the  possibility  of  their  niece  marrying 
a  foreigner  was  a  great  trouble  to  them,  and  all  the 
more  so  as  they  did  not  consider  their  sister-in-law 
capable  of  chaperoning  a  young  heiress  in  Europe  and 
protecting  her  from  the  intrigues  of  fortune-hunters. 

Mrs.  Villars  was  one  of  those  spoilt  children  of 
Providence,  so  frequently  to  be  met  with  in  America. 
She  had  been  extremely  pretty.  Her  hair  had  turned 
white  at  an  early  age,  but  her  face  had  retained  its 
youthfulness,  so  that,  with  her  dark  eyes,  beaming  with 
contentment,  and  her  delicate,  regular  features,  she 
was,  at  the  age  of  forty-five,  still  very  attractive.  The 
only  sorrow  of  her  life  had  been  the  loss  of  her  hus- 
band. She  was  remarkably  clever  in  business  matters 
and  extremely  practical.  She  was,  nevertheless,  as 
simple-minded  as  a  child,  and  had  no  idea  of  the  depths 
to  which  the  human  being  can  sink,  nor  of  the  moral 
depravity  which  might  surround  her.  She  was  always 
busy  from  morning  to  night,  either  with  her  financial 
afl'airs,  her  charities,  or  her  social  duties.  She  had 
perfect  health  and  a  pleasant  character  and,  added  to 
these  advantages,  an  almost  inexhaustible  cheque-book, 
so  that  she  was  one  of  the  women  whom  people  liked 
to  invite  and  "  Aunt  Mary,"  as  Clara,  and  many  other 
girls  called  her,  was  very  popular  in  New  York  society. 

An  American  woman  exercises  little  or  no  authority 


26  AMERICAN  NOBILITY 

over  her  children  and,  when  once  they  are  grown  up, 
she  is  quite  willing  to  forget  her  maternal  dignity  and 
to  allow  them  to  treat  her  as  an  elder  sister.  Between 
Annie  and  her  mother,  there  was  the  most  charming 
intimacy.  At  night,  when  they  chatted  over  the  events 
of  the  day,  they  told  each  other  everything,  Including 
all  that  there  was  to  tell  about  sundry  flirtations, 
social  triumphs,  etc.  Mrs.  Villars  consulted  her 
daughter  on  matters  of  dress  and  about  business 
affairs.  She  had  absolute  confidence  in  Annie,  so  that 
when  the  latter  had  said  that  she  should  never  marry 
a  foreigner,  her  mother  had  no  further  anxiety  on  that 
score.  Her  sisters-in-law  were  so  persistent  in  their 
predictions  that,  on  the  whole,  Mrs.  Villars  was  glad 
to  have  her  niece  accompany  them  to  Europe  and  so 
share  the  responsibilities. 

Clara  May  was  four  years  older  than  Annie.  She 
was  a  typical  American  girl,  physically  and  morally. 
She  had  a  dazzling  complexion,  exuberant  spirits,  and 
not  a  vestige  of  what  the  French  call  temperament. 
She  was  very  straightforward,  intelligent,  and  had  no 
sentimentality  at  all.  Among  her  fixed  ideas,  one  was 
that  America  is  the  first  country  in  the  world,  an- 
other that  we  are  here  on  this  earth  simply  to  enjoy  our- 
selves, and  a  third,  that  man  was  created  for  the  sole 
purpose  of  feeding,  clothing,  and  serving  woman. 
Clara  had  had  the  satisfaction  of  refusing  some  of 
the  best  offers  of  marriage  in  New  York.  The  Ameri- 
can girl,  as  a  rule,  is  by  no  means  anxious  to  make 
a  speedy  marriage.  The  prospect  of  having  a  husband, 
children,  and  a  house  on  her  hands  is  not  very  tempting 
to  a  beautiful  society  girl,  with  money  at  her  com- 
mand. She  does  not  accept  the  duties  of  life  until 
she  has  made  sure  of  having  had  a  great  deal  of  its 


AMERICAN  NOBILITY  27 

pleasures.  She  does  not,  even  then,  consent  to  marry 
a  man  unless  she  cares  for  him  and  she  wants  to  know 
a  man  well  before  she  accepts  him  for  her  husband. 

George  Ottis  had  not  allowed  himself  to  be  dis- 
couraged by  Clara's  caprices.  He  had  continued  pay- 
ing his  court  to  her  with  a  persistency  which  had 
touched  her  in  the  end,  and  all  the  more  so  as  he  was 
a  very  good-looking  man. 

She  had  accepted  him  at  the  beginning  of  December 
and,  as  she  had  promised  to  go  to  Europe  with  her 
cousin,  the  wedding  had  been  fixed  for  an  early  date 
after  the  return  to  America.  By  way  of  a  reward  for 
his  patience  at  the  long  delay,  Clara  had  suggested  to 
her  fiance  that  he  should  join  them  in  Rome.  Ever 
since  the  death  of  her  parents,  Clara  May  had  made 
her  home  with  Mrs.  Villars.  The  two  cousins  were 
devoted  to  each  other.  One  of  them  was  prettier  and 
more  brilliant  and  the  other  was  more  intelligent  and 
much  more  wealthy,  but  not  a  shade  of  envy  had  ever 
been  mixed  with  their  friendship.  Clara  intended  to 
keep  a  strict  watch  on  Annie  and  to  bring  her  safely 
back  to  America. 

There  was  one  person  in  Mrs.  Villars'  household  to 
whom  the  idea  of  this  European  trip  was  a  source  of 
unmixed  joy.  This  person  was  Catherine  Makay, 
Annie's  old  Irish  nurse.  She  had  been  with  the  family 
ever  since  her  charge  was  an  infant  in  arms  and  had 
gradually  become  the  girl's  friend  and  almost  her 
slave.  Catherine  was  a  tall,  thin  woman,  with 
strongly-marked  and  almost  hard  features,  whose  face 
was  constantly  lighted  up  by  a  broad  smile  in  which 
was  reflected  all  the  natural  tenderness  and  kindliness 
of  her  nature.  The  instruction  she  had  received  had 
been  of  the  most  elementary  kind,  but  she  had  in- 


28  AMERICAN  NOBILITY 

herited  a  goodly  share  of  the  soul  of  her  country,  of 
that  passionate,  idealistic  soul  which  soars  so  readily 
towards  the  infinite. 

She  felt  nature  and  was  drawn  towards  all  that 
was  beautiful.  She  loved  poetry  and  her  memory  was 
well  stored  with  stories,  legends,  and  anecdotes.  She 
had  a  strong  religious  faith  and  American  Catholicism 
had  never  suflSced  for  her.  The  sermons  to  which  she 
listened  had  never  given  her  the  shudder  which  she 
used  to  experience  at  the  thought  of  the  torments  of 
hell  nor  the  thrill  occasioned  by  the  foretaste  of  the 
joys  of  Paradise.  The  churches  in  America  were  all 
too  light  and  too  new.  She  was  longing  to  be  able  to 
kneel  down  in  some  old  cathedral,  so  that  she  might 
feel  nearer  to  God  and  to  the  Virgin. 

Bonne,  as  she  was  called,  had  lavished  on  Annie, 
from  her  very  cradle,  not  only  her  time,  but  all  the 
treasure  of  her  affection.  The  child  had  tormented 
her  cruelly,  by  her  independence  of  character  and  her 
disdain  for  all  that  was  marvellous.  The  child  only 
cared  to  hear  stories  that  were  true,  or  that  seemed 
probable.  She  did  not  believe  in  fairies,  thought  the. 
legends  were  silly,  and  could  not  feel  poetry  at  all. 
She  did  not  like  caresses  and  effusions  and  she  thought 
grand  speeches  ridiculous.  The  most  comic  scenes  took 
place,  constantly,  between  the  nurse  and  her  little 
charge.  They  quarrelled,  made  it  up  and  argued  end- 
lessly. The  Irishwoman  had  nevertheless  softened  the 
character  of  the  little  American  girl,  whilst  the  little 
American  girl  had  taught  the  Irishwoman  to  be  more 
rational,  by  insisting  always  on  only  listening  to  what 
was  true  and  real. 

Bonne  had  been  wildly  jealous,  later  on,  of  Annie's 
governess.     In  order  to  lessen  the  number  of  those 


AMERICAN  NOBILITY  29 

who  shonld  wait  directly  on  her  young  mistress,  she 
had  appointed  herself  her  maid.  In  this  way,  it  was 
she  who  went  to  call  Annie  every  morning  and  she 
always  took  a  few  flowers  on  the  tray  with  a  delicious 
cup  of  coffee.  At  night,  after  brushing  the  girl's 
beautiful  hair,  she  would  sit  by  her  bedside  and  tell 
her  things  which  she  thought  might  interest  her,  some- 
times things  she  had  heard  through  the  day  and  at  others 
something  about  which  she  had  been  reading.  Annie 
enjoyed  listening  to  her,  for  the  woman  had  a  clever 
way  of  telling  anything.  When  she  closed  her  eyes, 
Bonne  would  tuck  her  up,  kiss  her,  and  make  the 
sign  of  the  cross  over  her.  And  it  was  this  humble 
woman  who  succeeded  in  implanting  in  Annie's  soul 
a  grain  of  ideality  which  was  destined  to  germ  and 
blossom  in  Europe. 


CHAPTER  III 

However  rich  they  may  be,  American  women  usually 
travel  without  ostentation.  Mrs.  Villars  only  took 
with  her  Catherine  Makay,  her  own  maid,  and  a  cou- 
rier, who  had  travelled  in  that  capacity  with  several 
members  of  her  family. 

Following  the  advice  of  a  friend,  she  had  engaged 
a  suite  of  rooms  on  the  first  floor  of  the  Hotel  Cas- 
tiglione.  The  proprietress,  who  was  well-versed  in  the 
American  Who  's  Who,  knew  the  importance  of  her 
visitors  and  had  neglected  nothing,  so  that  their  first 
impressions  should  be  satisfactory.  When  she  showed 
them  into  rooms  that  were  well  heated  and  lighted  and 
also  decorated  with  flowers,  they  expressed  their  satis- 
faction. Through  the  open  doors,  they  caught  sight 
of  a  beautiful  drawing-room,  with  painted  ceiling  and 
walls  hung  with  brocade.  The  bedrooms  were  lofty 
and  cheerful-looking,  and  the  cloth  was  laid  for  dinner 
in  the  dining-room.  The  open  fires  and  the  flowers 
made  everything  seem  so  little  like  the  ordinary  hotel, 
that  the  travellers  at  once  felt  quite  at  home. 

The  following  morning,  as  soon  as  she  was  awake, 
Annie  went  to  the  window  to  look  at  Paris.  After 
surveying  the  Rue  de  Castiglione,  she  glanced  to  the 
left  and  saw  the  graceful  spires  of  St.  Clotilde  and 
the  D6me  of  thfe  Invalides.  To  the  right,  she  had  a 
view  of  the  Vend6me  column  and  the  top  of  the  Opera 

30 


AMERICAN  NOBILITY  81 

House.  She  was  enthusiastic  in  her  admiration  and, 
anxious  to  see  more,  she  dressed  as  quickly  as  possible 
and,  accompanied  by  Clara  and  Bonne,  went  to  the 
Flower  Market  at  the  Madeleine.  She  bought  a  whole 
basket  of  flowers  from  Nice  and  some  plants,  and  then 
returned  to  the  hotel  to  complete  their  installation. 

In  spite  of  her  love  of  travel,  the  American  woman 
is  devoted  to  her  own  country  and  her  own  people 
there.  In  addition  to  her  prayer-book,  her  Baedeker, 
her  diary  and  her  address-book,  she  carries  with  her, 
all  over  the  world,  the  portraits  of  her  parents,  fre- 
quently the  photograph  of  a  favourite  animal,  of  her 
home,  and,  sometimes,  an  American  flag,  and  a  whole 
crowd  of  objects  which  she  considers  as  her  household 
gods.  By  means  of  these,  she  will  make  for  herself  a 
familiar  home-like  atmosphere  to  alleviate  the  banality 
of  the  hotel. 

Mrs.  Villars  and  the  two  girls  arranged  their  writ- 
ing-tables, reached  out  their  personal  belongings,  and 
placed  flowers  about  here  and  there.  A  piano  was 
ordered  and,  in  a  very  short  time,  they  felt  quite  at 
home  and  did  not  in  the  least  regret  the  splendours 
of  their  house  in  Washington  Square. 

At  the  end  of  a  fortnight,  Annie  knew  Paris  better 
than  the  majority  of  Parisian  women.  The  friends  she 
knew  in  Europe  were  just  then  in  Nice  and  Baroness 
de  Keradieu  was  in  the  country,  so  that  she  had  plenty 
of  time  on  her  hands.  In  the  mornings,  she  and  her 
cousin,  accompanied  either  by  Mrs.  Villars  or  by 
Catherine,  visited  the  churches,  museums,  and  places  of 
historical  interest.  In  the  afternoons,  they  went  shop- 
ping and  to  their  dressmakers  and  milliners,  and 
finished  up  with  a  drive. 

In  the  evenings,  they  read  their  papers  and  wrote 


32  AMERICAN  NOBILITY 

letters.  American  women  are  great  letter-writers. 
They  write  with  remarkable  ease,  without  the  slightest 
hesitation,  and  without  erasures.  Their  letters  are 
charming  and  are  often  little  masterpieces.  They 
nearly  all  keep  diaries,  and  these  diaries  are  cerebral 
photographs,  developed  very  clearly  and  sharply  out- 
lined. They  are  full  of  shrewd  observation  and  origi- 
nal remarks,  but  there  is  no  trace  of  any  sensations. 
A  European  girl  would  describe  what  she  had  felt,  but 
an  American  girl  will  tell  what  she  has  seen.  Be- 
tween the  diary  of  a  New  York  or  Boston  girl  and 
the  diary  of  a  Marie  Bashkirtseflf,  there  are  many  steps 
of  the  psychological  ladder. 

Engravings  and  photographs  had  so  familiarised 
Annie  with  Paris  that,  wherever  she  went,  she  had  the 
sentiment  of  having  already  been  there.  It  was  a 
keen  pleasure,  nevertheless,  to  recognise  the  various 
monuments  and  buildings  and  to  admire  them  in  the 
midst  of  their  proper  surroundings.  She  did  not  weep, 
as  Bonne  did,  at  the  sight  of  Napoleon's  tomb  and 
Marie  Antoinette's  crucifix,  but  no  historical  souvenir 
left  her  indifferent. 

Baroness  de  Keradieu  returned  to  Paris  on  the  15th 
of  February  and  she  called  the  same  day  at  the  Hotel 
Castiglione.  After  the  first  greetings  and  exchange  of 
news,  she  asked  Annie  how  she  liked  Paris. 

"  I  simply  love  it,"  answered  the  girl,  "  and  the 
curious  part  is  that  I  feel  as  much  at  home  here,  as 
though  the  Champs  Elys^es,  the  Boulevards,  and  the 
Rue  de  la  Paix  were  part  of  New  York." 

"  It  is  a  fact,"  said  Madame  de  Keradieu,  "  that 
American  women  seem  less  out  of  their  element,  less 
foreign,  in  Paris  than  the  majority  of  French  pro- 
vincial women.     It  reallv  is  our  second  home." 


AMERICAN  NOBILITY  33 

"  Oh,  I  do  not  feel  as  Parisian  as  all  that,"  put  in 
Clara,  laughing.  "The  more  I  travel,  the  more  I 
appreciate  my  own  country." 

"  I  hope  you  do  not  belong  to  those  American  women, 
who,  after  seeing  all  the  treasures  of  the  Old  World, 
declare  that  it  is  behind  the  times  and  less  civilised 
than  New  York,  because  the  houses  have  not  all  electric 
light,  lifts,  and  baths." 

"  Oh,  I  do  not  go  as  far  as  that.  I  have  all  due 
respect  and  admiration  for  Europe,  but  I  could 
not  live  over  here.  After  I  have  been  here  a  few 
months,  I  begin  to  get  cross.  Everything  irritates  me, 
the  slowness  of  things  and  people,  the  routine,  the  petty 
conventionalities,  the  necessity  of  being  escorted  about 
in  the  street,  and  I  do  not  feel  a  free  creature  again 
until  I  set  foot  once  more  on  the  New  York  pavement." 

"  I  must  say,  too,"  put  in  Annie,  "  that  I  was 
horribly  disappointed  with  the  Faubourg  St.  Germain. 
I  had  imagined  it  as  one  of  the  finest  parts  of  Paris, 
and  it  is  ugly  and  gloomy  and  dreary.  I  would  not 
live  there  for  the  world.  I  should  fancy  myself  in 
prison  behind  one  of  its  gateways." 

"  I  like  it  immensely,"  said  Madame  de  Keradieu, 
smiling.  "  I  would  not  change  our  house  in  the  Rue 
Vaneau  for  one  of  the  finest  on  the  other  side  of  the 
river.  As  to  the  inhabitants  of  the  Faubourg,  it  is 
just  the  same  thing.  They  are  not  brilliant  nor  what 
is  called  *  up-to-date,'  but  they  are  delightful  to  live 
with.  Their  courtesy  and  their  perfect  manners  pro- 
duce just  that  intangible  something  which  is  felt  in 
really  good  society,  a  something  so  exquisite  that  it 
makes  up  for  everything  and  nothing  can  make  up  for 
its  absence." 

"  A  propos  of  the  Faubourg,"  interrupted  Clara  May, 


34  AMERICAN  NOBILITY 

"  will  you  tell  me  how  it  comes  about  that  such  Ameri- 
can women  as  Mrs.  Robinson  and  Mrs.  Pill  are  received 
there?    We  are  more  exclusive  than  that  at  home." 

"  And  who  is  receiving  them?" 

"  Oh,  princesses  and  duchesses " 

"  Yes,  but  there  are  princesses  and  princesses, 
duchesses  and  duchesses.  Those  who  receive  the  people 
you  mention  are  only  women  of  a  lower  social  stand- 
ing, women  whose  conduct  has  not  been  blameless,  but 
who,  thanks  to  their  skilful  manoeuvring,  have  not 
quite  lost  foothold.  The  real  Faubourg  only  ex- 
changes cards  with  them  though.  Such  women  have 
recently  discovered  the  American  woman.  They  have 
opened  their  drawing-rooms  to  her,  hoping,  in  this  way, 
to  attract  young  men  and  to  be  able  to  arrange  wealthy 
marriages  for  their  relatives  and  friends." 

"  And  yet,  in  the  newspaper  paragraphs  of  f6tes 
given  by  these  Americans,  there  were  really  good 
names,  the  names  of  good  historical  families." 

"  Yes,  there  is  a  certain  set  of  young  French  men 
and  women,  even  in  the  aristocracy,  who  would  like 
to  break  with  the  old  traditions  and  prejudices  and 
mingle  with  modern  society.  As  modern  society  is 
now  represented  by  the  upper  middle  class,  they  can- 
not, and  do  not  even  wish  to  mix  with  that,  and  so 
they  visit  foreign  women.  In  foreign  drawing-rooms, 
young  French  aristocrats  of  this  type  are  made  much 
of  and  they  can  do  as  they  like  and  say  what  they 
like  there.  A  foreign  woman  does  not  belong  to  any 
French  political  party,  she  has  no  family  and  no  con- 
nections, she  can  be  courted  or  neglected.  In  a  word, 
she  does  not  count." 

"  How  flattering  for  the  foreign  woman,"  remarked 
Clara,  ironically. 


AMERICAN  NOBILITY  36 

"  Are  the  dinners  she  gives  returned  ?  "  asked  Annie. 

"  Oh,  yes.  She  is  invited  to  the  big  balls  and  soirees. 
She  is  ornamental  and  the  women  who  give  these 
entertainments  are  delighted  to  have  her  in  their 
drawing-rooms.  She  is  never  invited  to  their  private 
parties  though.  As  to  the  real  Faubourg  St.  Germain, 
its  doors  are  closed  to  her  and  I  am  quite  sure  that 
neither  Mrs.  Robinson  nor  Mrs.  Pill  are  known  there. 
I  will  introduce  you  to  my  best  friend,  the  Duchess 
de  Blanzac,  and  if  she  takes  a  fancy  to  you,  you  will 
not  lack  invitations." 

"  When  does  your  season  begin  ?  " 

"  Early  in  April.  I  hope,  for  your  sake,  that  it  will 
be  a  brilliant  one.  You  will  not  enjoy  yourself  as 
much  as  in  New  York,  perhaps,  but  at  any  rate  you 
will  see  something  fresh  and  you  will  take  back  im- 
pressions that  your  friends  will  not  have  had.  There 
are  many  Americans  who  have  been  living  in  Paris  for 
years,  but  who  have  never  entered  a  real  French  home." 

"  Antoinette,"  said  Clara,  "  I  hope  you  are  not  going 
to  chaperon  us,  in  French  style." 

"  Do  not  be  alarmed.  I  shall  be  only  too  delighted 
for  my  friends  here  to  see  some  well-educated  American 
girls  who  have  always  been  accustomed  to  have 
absolute  freedom.  Your  own  sense  of  propriety  must 
then  be  your  guide.  There  is  one  thing  I  would 
warn  you  about,  though.  There  must  be  no  flirting. 
Europeans  do  not  understand  that  little  pastime  and 
as  to  Frenchmen,  you  must  not  trifle  with  them  any 
more  than  with  Cupid  in  person." 

"  That  does  not  apply  to  me,"  said  Clara,  pointing 
to  her  ring. 

"  It  must  be  difficult  to  flirt  with  foreign  men," 
remarked  Annie,  gravely. 


36  AMERICAN  NOBILITY 

"  I  advise  you  not  to  try  it,  at  any  rate." 

"  And  now,  Antoinette,  will  you  promise  one  thing?  " 
asked  Clara. 

"What  is  it?" 

"  That  you  will  not  attempt  to  get  Annie  married 
over  here?  " 

"  I  promise  that,  willingly,  so  that  you  may  be 
quite  tranquil  on  that  score.  I  should  be  delighted 
if  she  married  a  Frenchman,  but  I  shall  not  help  her 
to  do  so,  for  many  reasons.  In  the  first  place,  your 
aunts  would  never  forgive  me." 

"  And  I  should  not  either." 

"  How  absurd  you  are,"  remarked  Annie,  shrugging 
her  shoulders. 

"  Antoinette,"  said  Mrs.  Villars,  changing  the  sub- 
ject, "  these  girls  have  been  waiting  for  you  before 
they  ordered  their  evening  dresses." 

"  I  am  glad  to  hear  it,  for  I  enjoy  choosing  dresses." 

"  I  count  on  you  for  sparing  me  some  of  this  worry,** 
continued  Mrs.  Villars.  "  My  French  is  good  enough 
for  the  Louvre  and  the  Bon  March6,  but  it  will  never 
do  for  conversation  in  French  society." 

"  Oh,  we  will  help  you.  Henri  will  be  delighted  to 
escort  them  to  the  Bois.  He  is  quite  looking  forward 
to  teasing  them  once  more." 

"  Oh,  your  husband  is  delightful,"  said  Annie. 

"  He  is  not  a  bad  sort — for  a  Frenchman,"  answered 
Madame  de  Keradieu,  smiling.  "  He  is  coming  to  call 
on  you  between  five  and  six.  I  think  he  is  going  to 
take  us  all  to  the  theatre.  The  day  after  to-morrow, 
we  want  you  to  come  to  a  little  informal  dinner. 
You  will  have  to  excuse  the  fact  that  the  house  is  not 
in  order.  I  am  very  glad  that  we  had  to  come  back 
earlier  than  usual,  on  account  of  the  repairs  we  are 


AMERICAN  NOBILITY  3T 

having  done,  as  it  will  give  you  an  opportunity  of 
meeting  a  few  of  our  friends  quietly,  before  the  season 
commences.  You  will  be  able  to  get  used  to  these 
dreadful  foreigners,  in  that  way.  I  must  go  now,  as 
I  am  over  head  and  ears  in  arrangements." 

Annie  and  Clara  could  not  have  had  a  better  cicerone 
for  introducing  them  into  Parisian  society  than  the 
Baroness  de  Keradieu.  No  other  American  woman, 
who  had  married  into  the  French  aristocracy,  had  de- 
nationalised herself  so  well  and  acquired  so  admirably 
the  manners  and  tone  of  the  Faubourg.  Antoinette 
Lindsay  had  been  extremely  beautiful.  She  had  made 
the  acquaintance  of  her  husband  when  passing  a 
winter  in  Rome.  At  that  time  Monsieur  de  Keradieu 
was  merely  an  attach^  to  the  Embassy  and  not  at  all 
wealthy,  Antoinette  had  only  a  small  fortune  left  her 
by  her  grandmother.  The  marriage,  on  both  sides,  had 
been  one  of  inclination.  They  had  spent  three  years 
in  Washington,  as  the  Baron  had  managed  to  get  him- 
self sent  there,  and  had  then  returned  to  Paris. 

Antoinette  was  received  coldly,  and  even  with  dis- 
trust, by  her  husband's  family.  After  the  birth  of  her 
son,  she  became  a  Catholic.  This  seemed  to  bring  her 
nearer  to  her  new  relatives  and,  in  the  end,  she  won 
their  love  and  esteem. 

The  Baron's  parents  bought  a  villa  at  Cannes  and 
they  then  gave  up  to  the  young  couple  their  chMeau 
of  Moncour,  in  Touraine,  and  their  town  house  in  Paris, 
in  the  Rue  Vaneau. 

The  Keradieus  were  not  rich  enough  to  be  able  to 
keep  up  much  style,  but  their  home  was  a  most 
agreeable  one. 

The  Baroness  was  always  most  charming  to  her 
American  friends   who  happened   to   come  to   Paris. 


38  AMERICAN  NOBILITY 

She  took  them  to  the  theatre  and  to  the  Bois,  invited 
them  to  her  house,  but  she  never  asked  for  iuvitations 
for  them,  nor  did  she  introduce  them  anywhere.  Dur- 
ing her  last  visit  to  America,  she  had  been  greatly 
annoyed  and  very  indignant  at  the  wrong  notions 
people  had  about  the  French  aristocracy.  She  had 
persuaded  Annie  and  her  cousin  to  come  and  spend 
a  season  in  Paris  and  had  offered  to  introduce  them 
into  society,  hoping  that,  in  this  way,  they  might  be 
able  to  see  for  themselves  the  truth  of  things.  It  was 
by  means  of  this  idea  that  Providence  made  use  of 
Madame  de  Keradieu,  in  the  working  out  of  Annie's 
destiny. 


CHAPTER  IV 

Thb  Marquis  d'Anguilhon,  seated  at  a  large  Louis 
XV.  writing-desk,  with  a  cigar  between  his  lips  and 
a  red  pencil  in  his  hand,  was  reckoning  up  his  debts. 
The  drawn  look  on  his  face  showed  clearly  enough  the 
painful  effort  that  this  task  was  costing  him.  When 
he  had  jotted  down  the  various  sums  taken  from  his 
pocketbook  and  then  those  of  a  large  number  of  bills, 
he  added  them  up  once,  and  then  a  second  time,  and 
wrote  down  the  total  in  huge,  maddening  figures. 
After  this,  he  flung  the  pencil  down,  and  threw  all 
the  odious  papers  pell-mell  into  a  drawer.  Turning 
his  armchair  round  towards  the  fireplace,  he  sat  down 
again,  crossed  his  legs,  gazed  with  a  fixed  expression 
at  the  blaze,  and  was  very  soon  entirely  absorbed  in 
his  reflections.  The  firelight  played  over  him  in  the 
most  artistic  way. 

He  was  evidently  a  man  of  good  lineage,  a  man  to 
whom  the  finishing  touch  had  been  given.  He  gave 
the  impression  of  extreme,  and  even  ultra,  refinement, 
an  impression  not  appreciated  by  all  people.  It  was 
difficult  to  say  whether  he  would  be  called  handsome. 
The  face,  with  its  straight  nose,  was  usually  cold  and 
impassive.  Life  and  its  cares  had  marked  it  with 
lines  of  force  and  the  brown  eyes  would  light  up  to 
a  golden  brown  under  the  influence  of  tender  feeling. 
The   dark   hair,    dull   white   complexion,   and   tawny 

39 


40  AMERICAN  NOBILITY 

moustache  lent  a  warm  colouring,  whilst  the  high 
forehead  and  full  lips  revealed  a  characteristic  ming- 
ling of  the  sensual  and  the  ideal.  A  ring  of  the  bell 
interrupted  the  Marquis  d'Anguilhon's  meditations.  He 
went  himself  to  the  door  and  brought  back  into  the 
room  a  man  of  about  forty  years  of  age,  of  somewhat 
vulgar  appearance  but  with  an  intelligent  and  pleasing 
face.  The  arrival  of  a  woman  for  whom  he  cared  could 
not  have  delighted  Jacques  more  than  this  visitor. 

"  Sit  down  there,  Bontemps,"  he  said,  pointing  to 
an  armchair  near  the  fire. 

"  I  am  glad  you  are  back.  Monsieur  le  Marquis. 
When  I  received  your  note,  I  was  just  going  to  write 
and  advise  you  to  come  back  to  Paris." 

"Really?    Why?" 

"  I  will  tell  you  just  now.  I  fancy  that  you  will 
lead  up  yourself  to  what  I  have  to  say.  Will  you  tell 
rae  first  what  it  is  that  you  want  at  present?  " 

"  What  I  want  ?  Why,  money,  of  course.  You  know 
that  very  well." 

"  Times  are  rather  diflBcult — and  it  is  scarce,  Mon- 
sieur le  Marquis." 

"  Money  is  always  scarce  when  it  is  needed,"  said 
Jacques,  bitterly.  "  You  are  a  man  of  resources, 
though,  and  you  can  find  me  some,  if  you  feel  inclined 
to  do  so." 

"  It  is  not  the  inclination  that  is  lacking,  you  may 
be  sure.     If  the  figure  you  want  is  not  too  big " 

"  I  want  a  hundred  thousand  francs." 

Monsieur  Bontemps  started. 

"  You  are  joking,"  he  said. 

"Not  in  the  least.  I  want  a  hundred  thousand 
francs,"  the  young  man  repeated,  speaking  very 
distinctly. 


AMERICAN  NOBILITY  41 

"And  what  security  do  you  offer?" 

"  These  pictures  and  tapestries  and  all  that  is  here. 
They  are  worth  more  than  that  sum." 

"More?" 

"  Why,  certainly.  They  are  beautiful  relics  of  the 
past,"  said  the  Marquis,  glancing  sadly  round  the  room 
at  the  treasures  in  question. 

"  You  have  been  gambling?  " 

"  No,  I  have  spent  three  months  in  Algeria,  a  few 
days  at  Cannes  with  my  uncle  de  Froissy,  and  I  have 
not  been  once  to  Monte  Carlo.  I  am,  nevertheless,  on 
the  brink  of  the  j)recipice." 

"Again?" 

"  It  is  always  the  same  thing  and  it  always  will  be 
as  long  as  I  have  not  a  fortune  in  accordance  with 
my  tastes  and  my  instincts — tastes  and  instincts  which 
I  have  inherited  and  which  are  older  than  I  am  myself. 
I  can  feel  that  quite  well.  When  Providence  creates 
beings  of  my  stamp,  it  should  provide  them  with 
wealth,  if  it  wants  to  be  merciful,  but  it  does  not 
wish  to  be  merciful,  it  cannot  be,  for  the  simple  reason 
tbat  it  must  have  contrasts;  it  must  have  oppositions 
for  the  sake  of  producing  suffering.  I  give  twenty 
francs  where  I  have  not  the  right  to  spend  two  sous. 
The  ten  thousand  francs  income  I  possess  gives  me 
the  opportunity  of  spending  three  times  as  much.  I 
have  no  profession,  no  talent  to  turn  to  account,  and 
no  immediate  expectation  of  even  a  legacy.  On  the 
other  hand,  I  have  too  much  pride  left  to  live  at  the 
expense  of  my  tradespeople  and  too  much  dignity  to 
make  my  living  out  of  gambling.  The  poverty  to 
which  I  am  reduced  makes  me  nervously  weak,  so  that 
life  does  not  seem  worth  living  and  the  revolver  will 
probably  be  the  end  of  it  all.    Now  Bontemps,  you 


42  AMERICAN  NOBILITY 

must  help  me,  once  for  all,  to  get  out  of  my  diflQcultiei. 
When  my  father  died,  you  proved  yourself  to  be  our 
best  friend.  You  helped  us  then  to  keep  our  family 
home  and  I  count  on  you  to  help  me  now." 

"  In  the  first  place.  Monsieur  le  Marquis,  I  should 
want  to  know  what  you  propose  doing  with  the  hun- 
dred thousand  francs  ?  " 

"  I  propose  paying  my  creditors  first.  I  have  just 
made  out  the  list  of  my  debts.  Here  it  is,"  con- 
tinued the  young  man,  taking  up  the  paper  written 
in  red  pencil.  "  The  total  amount  is  sixty  thousand 
francs  and  then  I  should  want  forty  thousand  francs 
for  going  to  Africa." 

"To  Africa?" 

"  Yes.  A  certain  Spanish  proverb  says :  *  A  poor 
nobleman  has  only  three  paths  oi)en  to  him:  the 
Church,  the  royal  household,  and  the  sea.'  I  have  no 
vocation  for  the  first,  the  second  no  longer  exists  in 
our  country,  so  that  there  is  only  the  sea  left.  I  intend 
taking  that  path  and  am  going  to  join  an  expedition 
for  exploring  the  left  bank  of  the  Niger." 

"  Mon  Dieu,  do  you  mean  it?  But  who  put  that 
idea  into  your  head  ?  " 

"  Young  Delorme,  a  very  decent,  straightforward 
fellow,  the  banker's  son.  I  saw  a  great  deal  of  him 
when  we  were  both  doing  our  time  in  the  army.  You 
know,  perhaps,  that,  to  the  surprise  of  every  one,  his 
father  died  insolvent  and  it  was  even  said  that  he 
committed  suicide.  George  gave  up  to  the  creditors 
the  money  he  had  inherited  from  his  mother.  It  would 
have  been  enough  to  have  lived  upon  very  comfortably. 
That  will  give  you  an  idea  of  the  sort  of  man  he  is. 
He  went  out  to  the  Soudan,  and  from  there  to  Dahomey, 
where  he  is  at  present  managing  a  factory.    He  speaks 


AMERICAN  NOBILITY  43 

so  enthusiastically  of  the  work  to  be  done  in  Africa, 
that  he  has  made  me  wish  to  take  part  in  it.  I  shall 
start  with  an  exploring  expedition  and  if  I  come  back 
safe  and  sound,  George  Delorme  will  put  me  in  the 
way  of  some  work." 

"  Work !  You,  Monsieur  le  Marquis  ?  "  exclaimed  Bon- 
temps,  with  an  expression  of  pity  in  his  voice.  "  I 
think  you  are  capable  of  winning  glory,  but  I  doubt 
if  you  would  earn  money.  One  cannot  suddenly  be- 
come a  financier,  a  manufacturer,  a  tradesman,  or 
indeed  a  business  man  of  any  kind  without  some  kind 
of  apprenticeship.  Whenever  I  see  an  aristocrat,  who 
knows,  perhaps,  no  more  of  figures  than  his  multiplica- 
tion-table, rushing  into  the  struggle  for  gain  with 
experienced  business  men,  he  reminds  me  of  a  cock 
amongst  a  lot  of  foxes  and  I  know  beforehand  that 
he  will  soon  be  plucked,  feathered,  and  devoured." 

"  Then  what  do  you  think  a  poor  aristocrat  should 
do,  Bontemps?" 

"  He  should  simply  make  a  rich  marriage.  Monsieur 
le  Marquis." 

"Like  Augier's  character  in  the  play,  he  should  marry 
Monsieur  Poirier's  daughter?  I  have  tried  to  bring 
myself  to  follow  that  example,  but  I  cannot.  Marriage 
is  much  more  alarming  than  Africa." 

"  But  supposing  there  were  to  be  an  exceptionally 
favourable  opportunity  ?  " 

"Have  you  any  one  to  propose,  Bontemps?"  asked 
Jacques  d'Anguilhon,  smiling. 

"  Not  exactly  that,  but  you  may  have  heard  of  the 
very  wealthy  American  girl  whom  the  Baroness  de 
Keradieu  is  introducing  this  season." 

"  No,  I  only  arrived  yesterday  morning  and  I  have 
not  seen  any  one  yet." 


44  AMERICAN  NOBILITY 

"  Well,  you  should  have  a  try  there.  She  is  an  only 
child  and  belongs  to  a  very  good  family.  She  will 
have  at  least  sixty  millions." 

"  Sixty  million  francs ! "  exclaimed  Jacques. 

"  Yes ;  that  is  the  wife  and  fortune  you  ought  to 
have." 

"  I  suppose  she  is  one  of  the  American  girls  in  search 
a  title." 

"  Unfortunately  she  is  not.  She  is  a  Protestant,  very 
devoted  to  her  own  country,  and  she  will  not  marry  in 
Europe.  The  Due  de  Randan  is  paying  great  attention 
to  her  at  present,  but  all  to  no  purpose,  it  appears." 

"Then  what  chance  should  I  have?" 

"  Who  knows  ?  Perhaps  Providence,  whom  you  were 
abusing  just  now,  has  brought  this  heiress  from 
America  expressly  for  you." 

"  I  should  be  very  much  surprised  at  that." 

"  I  should  not.  You  have  too  many  good  qualities, 
Monsieur  le  Marquis,  for  it  to  be  possible  that  your 
race  is  destined  to  die  out  with  you." 

The  young  man's  face  lighted  up  with  pleasure,  for 
a  moment,  at  these  words. 

"  Thanks,  Bontemps,"  he  said.  "  You  are  no  flatterer, 
so  that  the  compliment  is  worth  something  coming 
from  you.  But  what  made  you  think  of  this  marriage 
for  me?" 

"  I  can  take  no  credit  for  it,  as  the  idea  was  sug- 
gested to  me." 

"  Suggested?  But  is  there  any  one  else  who  is  in- 
terested in  my  business  affairs,  may  I  ask  ? "  asked 
Jacques,  somewhat  haughtily. 

"  Well,  you  see,  I  have  an  old  friend,  who,  in  her 
way,  is  a  remarkable  woman.  Before  her  marriage, 
she  was  a  governess  and  companion.    Her  husband  was 


AMERICAN  NOBILITY  45 

an  aristocrat  who  had  come  down  in  the  world  and 
was  a  failure  as  an  artist,  into  the  bargain.  He  had 
the  good  sense,  at  any  rate,  to  make  his  exit  from 
this  world.  His  widow  resolved  to  make  a  little  for- 
tune for  herself  and  her  two  children.  She  began  by 
selling  curiosities  and  all  kinds  of  artistic  things  and, 
thanks  to  her  education  and  her  natural  aptitudes,  she 
soon  became  quite  a  connoisseur.  Her  business  grad- 
ually increased  and  she  has  the  most  astounding  judg- 
ment and  sagacity,  so  that  I  have  often  been  glad  to 
consult  with  her.  She  lends  money,  buys  and  sells 
houses,  and  even  looks  out  for  heiresses  for  her  needy 
customers,  when  she  thinks  they  are  deserving.  She 
declares  that  she  has  not  a  single  unhappy  marriage 
on  her  conscience.  She  knows  people  in  all  classes  of 
society  and  this  fact  gives  her  considerable  influence. 
Her  private  room  is  a  veritable  confessional  box  and 
the  poor  unfortunates  who  go  to  her  in  their  trouble 
always  get  some  consolation  and  help.  I  really  owe 
ray  present  position  to  her,  for  she  helped  me  to  put 
my  foot  in  the  stirrup.  I  dine  with  her  once  a  week 
and  she  often  takes  me  out  driving  with  her.  The  day 
before  yesterday,  we  were  coming  back  from  the  Bois 
when  we  met  this  heiress.  My  friend  told  me  what  she 
had  heard  about  her  and  she  also  spoke  of  the  sensa- 
tion that  the  idea  of  this  huge  fortune  had  made  in 
the  Faubourg.  All  at  once,  she  broke  off  and,  turning 
to  me,  said:  *I  cannot  think  of  any  one  but  the 
Marquis  d'Anguilhon,  who  is  capable  of  carrying  off 
this  golden  fleece.  You  should  write  to  him  at  once 
and  advise  him  to  go  in  for  it.  It  would  be  a  pity 
for  all  those  millions  to  be  lost  to  France.'  " 

"But  does  your  friend  know  me?"  asked  Jacques, 
surprised. 


46  AMERICAN  NOBILITY 

"  Oh,  Madame  de  L^ne  knows  every  one.  She  must 
have  seen  you,  for  she  declares  that  you  would  make 
an  impression  on  this  Miss  Villars.  This  inspiration 
of  hers  is,  perhaps,  a  very  happy  one  and,  at  any  rate, 
after  what  you  have  just  told  me,  it  would  be  worth 
while  thinking  it  over,  would  it  not,  Monsieur  le 
Marquis  ?  " 

The  young  man  was  silent  for  a  few  minutes  and 
then,  passing  his  hand  over  his  forehead,  he  said 
slowly : 

"  I  am  quite  bewildered  by  such  a  proposal.  You 
see  for  the  last  few  months  I  have  been  living  with 
this  dream  of  the  African  expedition,  and  it  would 
cost  me  a  great  deal  to  give  it  up  now." 

"  It  is  a  dream  though,  as  you  say.  It  is  all  very 
heroic  and  glorious,  but  it  would  take  you  very  far 
away  from  your  own  country  and  it  often  happens 
that  men  do  not  come  back  from  those  distant  lands. 
Remember  that  you  are  the  last  of  your  family, 
Monsieur  le  Marquis." 

The  expression  of  Jacques'  face  changed  visibly  and 
his  eyelids  quivered. 

"  Take  my  advice,"  continued  Bontemps,  "  go  to  the 
Opera  this  evening.  Miss  Villars  is  going  with  Mon- 
sieur and  Madame  de  Keradieu.  Take  your  best  opera - 
glasses  and  look  at  her.  That  will  be  better  than  all 
my  arguments.  I  would  not  go  into  their  box  though, 
afterwards.  So  much  depends  on  the  introduction, 
that  it  would  be  wiser  for  you  to  choose  the  time  and 
the  place  for  yours." 

"  Well,  I  will  go  to  the  Opera,  Bontemps.  But — 
what  about  the  money,  what  are  you  going  to  do 
about  that?" 

*'  I  cannot  think  of  any  one  but  Madame  de  I^ene 


AMERICAN  NOBILITY  47 

who  might  be  able  to  help  you.  If  you  will  give  me 
permission,  I  will  speak  to  her." 

"  Good.     Do  so,  by  all  means." 

"  I  will  bring  you  her  reply  to-morrow  at  eleven 
and  then  you  might  tell  me  what  you  think  about 
this  marriage." 

"  That  is  what  I  call  driving  a  man  to  extremities," 
said  Jacques,  laughing. 

"  It  is  for  your  own  good.  Monsieur  le  Marquis,  it 
is  entirely  for  your  own  good.  I  hope  you  will  think 
it  over  this  evening  and  then  sleep  upon  it,  but  I  have 
more  faith  in  this  evening  and  the  Opera.  Just  think 
— a  dowry  of  sixty  million  francs !  "  With  these  words, 
which  he  flung  out  like  an  anchor  for  the  mind  of  the 
young  man  to  seize  upon,  the  lawyer  took  his  leave. 


CHAPTER  V 

Jacques  bore  one  of  the  proudest  names  in  France, 
a  name  that  is  to  be  found  on  every  page  of  the  annals 
of  royalty  and  feudalism.  It  is  mentioned  by  Join- 
ville,  Froissart,  Saint-Simon,  and  Madame  de  S6vign6. 
Few  families  possess  such  glorious  records  as  the 
Anguilhons.  During  the  minority  of  Louis  XIII.,  a 
d'Anguilhon  had  held  almost  royal  authority,  and 
nnder  Louis  XV.  the  fortunes  of  the  family  attained 
their  highest  prosperity.  From  that  time  forward, 
they  had  gradually  declined  and  at  the  present  mo- 
ment the  last  representative  of  that  brilliant  line  owned 
nothing  but  a  town  house,  burdened  with  a  heavy 
mortgage,  and  an  income  which  was  most  inadequate. 
.Jacques'  lot  in  life  seemed  to  give  the  lie  to  the  family 
proverb  that  there  would  always  be  "  glory,  love,  and 
money  for  a  d'Anguilhon." 

In  our  modern  society,  it  is  no  longer  a  question  of 
serving  the  king,  but  of  serving  humanity.  Every  one 
has  to  pay  his  way  with  his  own  intelligence  and  his 
work.  Each  man  must  dig  and  delve,  in  order  to  dis- 
cover something  new  and  something  useful,  if  he  is  to 
win  any  position  or  wealth. 

The  Marquis  d'Anguilhon  did  not  belong  to  the  race 
of  diggers  and,  although  he  was  intelligent,  he  had 
not  the  great  gifts  of  his  ancestors.  The  descendant 
of  those  d'Anguilhons  who  had  given  such   valiant 


AMERICAN  NOBILITY  49 

statesmen,  soldiers,  and  savants  to  France  had  merely 
taken  his  college  degree  and  had  never  been  able  to 
decide  upon  a  profession.  The  army  did  not  attract 
him,  as  the  France  of  to-day  did  not  appeal  to  Jacques. 
He  bore  his  country  a  grudge  for  having  given  itself 
over  to  the  bourgeois.  He  considered  that  it  had  lost 
caste  and,  although  if  need  were,  he  would,  of  course, 
help  to  defend  France,  as  his  family  had  done  in  1870, 
still  he  did  not  care,  under  present  circumstances,  to 
serve  under  the  Republican  government. 

When  quite  a  young  man,  Jacques  had  been  fully 
aware  of  the  progressive  diminution  of  the  family 
fortune.  He  was  eighteen  when  the  Chateau  de  Blonay 
had  been  sold  and  the  sale  of  the  old  home,  so  full  of 
associations,  had  been  a  great  grief  to  him.  As  long 
as  his  father  had  lived,  he  had  good  horses,  carriages, 
and  enough  money  at  his  disposal.  By  dint  of  battling 
with  his  money-lenders  and  creditors,  the  old  Marquis 
had  managed  to  keep  up  his  house  in  good  style.  The 
long  struggle  had  finally  killed  him  and  when,  at  his 
death,  the  crash  came,  it  was  more  disastrous  than 
had  been  anticipated. 

The  beautiful  town  house  was  let  to  the  Portuguese 
Embassy.  The  Marchioness  took  refuge  in  a  small 
house  belonging  to  her  brother.  He  let  it  to  her  for 
a  nominal  rent  and  she  was  only  able  to  take  with  her 
two  of  her  old  servants.  Jacques  had  to  put  up  with 
just  a  bedroom  and  his  uncle's  studio,  a  room  with  a 
large  bay  window.  Thanks  to  some  furniture  and 
tapestries  that  they  had  managed  to  save  for  him,  he 
had  a  very  comfortable  and  even  luxurious-looking 
abode. 

The  young  man  was  reduced  to  an  income  pro- 
duced by  a  life  interest  in  a  capital  of  two  hundred 


50  AMERICAN  NOBILITY 

thousand  francs,  which  one  of  his  great  aunts  had  left 
him.  She  had  been  the  bogey  of  his  childhood  and,  in 
her  will,  she  had  left  this  money  to  him  "  for  cigars 
— or  bread." 

Jacques  had,  therefore,  had  to  learn  what  poverty 
meant  and  he  had  suffered  cruelly.  His  suffering  had 
been  that  of  a  person  accustomed  always  to  walking 
on  soft  carpets  and  suddenly  obliged  to  go  a  long  dis- 
tance, barefooted,  over  cold,  sharp  pebbles.  Jacques' 
feet  did  not  get  hardened  and,  consequently,  they  bled 
all  the  time.  His  poverty  wounded  his  pride  and  tor- 
tured his  heart.  It  made  his  face  look  old,  took  the 
light  out  of  his  eyes,  and  gradually  he  became  hard, 
bitter,  and  thoroughly  unhappy.  His  suffering  was 
quite  as  much  on  his  mother's  account  as  on  his  own. 

The  Marchioness  had  not  managed  to  keep  her  hus- 
band's affection  a  very  long  time,  but  her  maternal 
love  had  been  her  safeguard  and  her  one  joy.  The 
passion  she  had  put  into  this  had  been  repaid  by 
Jacques  with  a  filial  love  which  was  certainly  mor©^ 
intense  than  any  other  feeling  in  his  nature.  The 
thought  of  his  mother  being  deprived  of  the  luxury 
to  which  she  had  always  been  accustomed  weighed 
heavily  on  his  mind,  and  he  was  simply  amazed  at 
her  resignation.  In  her  modest  home,  in  the  Rue  de 
Bellechasse,  she  seemed  to  him  more  dignified  than 
in  her  former  surroundings.  He  was  surprised  to  see 
how  easily  she  moved  about  in  such  limited  space. 
When  he  was  in  Paris,  he  always  lunched  with  her 
and,  later  on  in  the  day,  between  six  and  seven  o'clock, 
he  would  call  in  again,  tell  her  what  he  had  been 
doing,  and  they  would  perhaps  have  a  little  music 
together.  They  both  enjoyed  this  hour  thoroughly. 
When  he  had  anything  to  annoy  him,  he  would  sit 


AMERICAN  NOBILITY  51 

down  at  his  mother's  feet,  rest  his  head  against  her, 
and  remain  there  sometimes,  absolutely  silent.  She 
never  asked  him  any  questions,  at  such  times,  but  she 
would  talk  to  him  gently  about  her  own  hopes  for 
the  future  and  the  reasons  she  had  to  believe  that 
there  were  better  days  in  store  for  them.  She  would 
speak,  too,  of  her  confidence  in  God,  and  with  such 
sincere  conviction  that  her  son  always  left  her  with 
fresh  courage  and  a  lighter  heart. 

After  the  settlement  of  his  father's  affairs,  Jacques 
had  left  Paris,  not  intending  to  return  there,  except 
from  time  to  time  to  see  his  mother.  He  had  wan- 
dered about  for  some  time,  without  any  fixed  plan, 
but  had  gradually  begun  to  long  for  his  old  haunts 
and  the  society  to  which  he  had  been  accustomed.  He 
had  been  welcomed  back  again,  for  he  was  on  friendly 
terms  with  half  the  Faubourg  and  then,  too,  his  name 
counted  for  something.  He  might  very  easily  have 
spent  six  months  of  the  year  as  a  guest  at  some  of 
the  best  chateaux  of  France,  hunting  or  shooting  as 
the  case  might  be,  but,  under  present  circumstances, 
he  did  not  care  to  accept  hospitality  outside  his  own 
family  circle,  or  that  of  a  few  very  intimate  friends. 

For  a  time  he  had  entertained  the  idea  of  marrying 
some  wealthy  girl  in  his  own  set,  but  a  large  fortune 
would  have  been  necessary  and  large  fortunes  are  rare 
in  the  Faubourg.  He  had  then  thought  of  an  Ameri- 
can wife,  after  the  style  of  the  Baroness  de  Keradieu, 
and  he  had  even  ventured  to  suggest  the  idea  to  the 
Marchioness  Taller,  a  Boston  woman  who  already  had 
several  Franco-American  marriages  on  her  conscience. 
A  few  months  later,  she  had  introduced  him  to  a  Miss 
Ellis,  an  orphan,  who  was  very  pretty,  who  had  ten 
million  francs,  and  who  wanted  to  marry  a  man  with 


52  AMERICAN  NOBILITY 

a  title.  She  was  charmed  with  Jacques  and,  having 
decided  that  she  would  accept  him,  she  considered  that 
he  must  first  go  through  his  probation.  The  American 
woman  is  always  too  practical  to  be  thoroughly  gen- 
erous and  everything  with  her  must  pay.  It  is  very 
probable  that  even  in  the  next  world  she  will  take 
steps  to  be  sure  of  getting  full  value  for  her  money. 

Miss  Ellis,  therefore,  began  the  great  game  of  flirta- 
tion with  Jacques.  She  expected  him  to  be  here,  there, 
and  everywhere.  Now  that  she  knew  a  Marquis,  she 
wanted  to  show  him  ofif,  to  have  him  always  in  attend- 
ance on  her.  She  accepted  his  flowers,  but  was  ex- 
tremely capricious,  encouraging  him  one  day  and 
discouraging  him  the  next.  Jacques  thought  this  con- 
duct horribly  vulgar  and  he  soon  showed  that  he  did 
not  care  to  be  any  woman's  plaything  and  thereupon 
turned  his  back  on  Miss  Ellis  and  her  millions. 

The  Count  de  Froissy,  his  mother's  brother,  had  no 
children,  so  that  he  might  very  easily  have  helped  his 
nephew,  but  Jacques'  uncle  considered  that  the  An- 
guilhons  had  never  had  the  slightest  idea  of  the  value 
of  money  and  he  wished  his  nephew  to  have  some  ex- 
perience of  the  pinch  of  poverty.  The  Countess  de 
Froissy  was  Jacques'  godmother  and  his  mother's  best 
friend.  She  occasionally  gave  her  nephew  a  few  bank- 
notes of  a  thousand  francs  to  spend  in  travelling  and 
this  was  certainly  an  excellent  inspiration. 

When  abroad,  Jacques  felt  that  his  poverty  was  not 
so  hard  to  bear.  Whilst  staying  at  hotels,  it  always 
seemed  to  him  that  the  existing  conditions  of  his  life 
were  only  momentary.  He  visited  Egypt,  Turkey,  and 
Russia  and  became  quite  fond  of  travelling. 

As  he  was  thrown  a  great  deal  on  his  own  resources, 
Jacques  began  to  read  eagerly  and  his  reading  put 


AMERICAN  NOBILITY  53 

him  in  touch  with  ideas  that  were  quite  new  to  him. 
He  was  amazed,  somewhat  disturbed,  but  nevertheless 
interested.  His  mental  horizon  gradually  became 
wider,  and  the  Faubourg  St.  Germain,  which  he  had 
hitherto  always  considered  as  the  Holy  Ark,  now  ap- 
peared to  him  as  a  very  small  and  comparatively  un- 
important chapel.  Among  the  young  men  of  the 
aristocracy,  not  one  had  been  more  exclusive  and 
more  rigid  than  Jacques.  Nothing  outside  his  own 
immediate  little  circle  had  ever  inspired  him  with 
either  curiosity  or  interest.  Politics  were  simply 
odious  to  him.  He  did  just  know  the  name  of 
the  President,  but  he  had  never  known  the  names  of 
the  Ministers.  From  the  time  that  the  men  of  his 
world  were  no  longer  at  the  helm,  the  ship  of  France 
might  weather  any  storms  without  this  affecting  him. 
The  little  he  knew  of  things  generally,  he  owed  to 
the  Figaro  and  the  Gaulois,  as  those  two  papers  man- 
age to  make  their  readers  absorb  a  certain  amount  of 
contemporary  history,  literature,  and  science  daily. 
As  to  modern  society,  he  knew  something  of  the  upper 
middle  class,  but  he  did  not  frequent  it  and  he  heartily 
detested  it.  The  idea  of  its  possessing  chMeaux,  race- 
horses, and  studs  made  him  feel  something  akin  to  the 
sentiment  which  big  children  experience  when  the  little 
ones  get  hold  of  their  toys.  At  the  Opera,  when  he 
saw  the  wives  of  well-known  financiers  somewhat  over- 
dressed and  wearing  too  many  diamonds,  he  would 
smile  disdainfully,  and  he  felt  an  almost  wicked  satis- 
faction on  seeing  the  sons  of  these  people  already 
going  to  the  bad,  thanks  to  the  pace  at  which  they 
were  living. 

When  travelling,  Jacques  had  met  with  savants  and 
men  who  worked  hard.    When  with  them  he  had  felt 


54  AMERICAN  NOBILITY 

his  own  inferiority  most  keenly,  and  had  fully  realised 
where  the  power  of  the  ruling  class  of  to-day  lay. 

At  Brussels,  he  had  happened  to  come  across  the 
army  comrade  of  whom  he  had  spoken  to  Monsieur 
Bontemps.  The  young  man  told  him  that  he  was  start- 
ing for  the  Soudan,  where  he  had  obtained  a  post  as 
manager  of  an  important  factory.  He  hoped  to  win 
both  money  and  glory — the  money  in  order  to  pay  off 
his  father's  creditors  and  the  glory  for  the  sake  of 
clearing  the  old  family  name  from  the  discredit  of  the 
failure. 

He  spoke  enthusiastically  of  Africa  and  of  his  future. 
He  considered  that  it  was  the  work  of  a  true  patriot 
to  spread  the  influence  of  France  and  to  open  up  new 
channels-  for  its  commerce.  He  was  bold  enough  to 
express  his  surprise  that  the  young  men  of  the  aris- 
tocracy were  not  tempted  to  go  out  there  in  search  of 
adventure  and  even  to  organise  exploring  expeditions. 

The  Marquis  was  greatly  impressed  by  George  De-v 
lorme's  words.  They  seemed  to  touch  the  chords  of  ^ 
heroism  and  of  patriotism  which  existed  in  the  young 
man's  soul,  just  as  they  had  existed  in  the  soul  of 
every  member  of  the  Anguilhon  family.  His  whole 
face  lighted  up  and  there  was  a  bright  gleam  in  his 
eyes  as  he  listened.  When  his  friend  left  him,  he  was 
greatly  excited  and  he  spent  a  great  part  of  the  night 
thinking  things  over. 

Thanks  to  the  impression  he  had  received,  a  brilliant 
idea  had  suddenly  come  to  him.  Why  should  not  he 
enter  the  ranks  of  those  explorers  who  are  quite  as 
much  the  glory  of  their  country  as  the  savants  and  the 
artists?  It  required  quite  as  much  courage  to  risk 
death  in  the  wilds  of  Africa  as  on  the  battlefield.  His 
bravery  had  never  been  put  to  any  severe  test,  but  he 


AMERICAN  NOBILITY  56 

knew  that  he  was  brave.  One  of  his  ancestors  had 
been  with  St.  Louis  to  Tunis  and  was  killed  there.  It 
would  be  a  worthy  epilogue  to  the  family  history  if 
he,  the  last  of  the  Anguilhons,  should  die  whilst  on  an 
exploring  expedition  in  Africa.  He  remembered  the 
strange  fascination  which  some  African  photographs, 
he  had  seen  in  a  shop  window  in  the  Rue  de  Solferino, 
had  exercised  over  him.  He  wondered  if  that  were  not 
a  sign  that  he  was  destined  to  live  his  life  out  there? 
Those  wonderful  photographs  taken  in  Dahomey,  in 
the  Soudan,  had  given  him  a  sensation  of  dazzling 
light  and  of  intense  heat.  He  could  recall  that  sen- 
sation now  and  it  was  with  that  light  in  his  eyes  that 
he  fell  asleep. 

The  following  day,  he  informed  George  Delorme  of 
his  intention  to  go  to  Africa  and  asked  him  to  help 
him  to  find  out  how  he  could  go.  His  friend  told  him 
that  there  was  a  question  of  sending  out  a  scientific 
and  political  mission  to  the  left  bank  of  the  Niger, 
and  that  it  would  probably  be  entrusted  to  a  certain 
Captain  Richard,  a  man  of  great  experience.  George 
Delorme  added  that  by  applying  at  once,  through 
some  one  influential,  to  the  Colonial  Minister,  he  might 
possibly  get  the  second  post  in  this  expedition. 
Jacques  was  most  eager  to  obtain  this,  as  a  dangerous 
and  far-distant  voyage  appealed  to  him. 

His  friend  promised  to  keep  him  well  posted  and  to 
do  all  in  his  power  for  him. 

The  two  young  men  spent  a  week  together  in 
Brussels.  They  talked  constantly  of  Africa,  made 
wonderful  plans,  and  encouraged  each  other  as  much 
as  possible.  When  they  parted,  they  shook  hands  with 
each  other  heartily,  as  though  sealing  a  compact. 

The     Marquis     returned     to     Paris,     full     of    en- 


56  AMERICAN  NOBILITY 

thusiasm  and  as  impatient  as  a  child  to  carry  out 
his  plan. 

The  thought  of  the  sorrow  he  would  cause  his  mother 
somewhat  disturbed  his  mind.  He  wondered  whether 
it  would  be  better  not  to  speak  to  her  of  his  intentions 
until  the  last  moment,  or  to  tell  her  at  once,  and, 
finally,  he  decided  on  the  latter  course. 

The  very  day  after  his  return  to  Paris,  he  accord- 
ingly announced  his  decision.  The  Marchioness  was 
very  brave  over  it,  and  even  experienced  a  certain 
pride  on  hearing  that  her  son  was  at  last  seized  with 
a  desire  to  take  up  some  work  and  to  win  glory. 

"  If  it  is  God's  will,"  she  said,  simply,  "  that  you 
should  leave  me.  He  will  give  me  strength  to  bear 
your  absence  and  your  departure.  Until  then  I  can 
go  on  hoping." 

Jacques  then  informed  his  uncle  of  his  intentions. 
Monsieur  de  Froissy  congratulated  him  warmly  and 
promised  to  take  the  necessary  steps  in  order  to 
obtain  for  him  a  creditable  post  in  the  expedition. 

George  Delorme  kept  his  word.  He  wrote  to  Jacques 
once  a  fortnight,  in  order  to  keep  him  posted,  and  his 
letters  served  to  keep  up  the  enthusiasm.  Jacques 
opened  them  with  as  much  emotion  as  though  they 
were  love  letters.  His  hands  trembled  with  excite- 
ment as  he  tore  the  envelope  and  he  read  them  over 
and  over  again.  They  inspired  him  with  an  ever- 
increasing  curiosity  about  Africa.  That  mysterious 
country  fascinated  him  now  just  as  some  woman, 
reputed  to  be  dangerous  and  different  from  any  other, 
might  have  done. 

In  order  to  calm  his  impatience,  he  had  started  for 
Algeria  in  January,  and  had  spent  two  months  in 
the  South  there.    He  had  been  training  himself  to  all 


AMERICAN  NOBILITY  57 

kinds  of  privations  and  had  gone  on  long  walking 
expeditions.  He  had  tried  the  strength  of  his  muscles 
and  of  his  constitution  and  had  been  proud  to  find 
they  bore  the  test  well. 

In  March,  he  had  received  a  letter  from  George, 
telling  him  that  the  expedition  to  the  left  bank  of 
tlie  Niger  was  now  finally  settled.  He  spoke  with 
great  admiration  of  Captain  Richard,  to  whom  the 
mission  was  entrusted,  and  he  urged  upon  Jacques 
the  necessity  of  applying  at  once  if  he  really  wished 
to  join  it. 

The  young  Marquis  at  once  left  Biskra  and  went 
straight  to  his  uncle's  estate,  the  ChMeau  de  St. 
Iklichel,  near  Cannes.  He  talked  things  over  with  him 
and  it  was  decided  that  his  uncle  should  at  once  make 
the  necessary  application.  Jacques  then  returned  to 
Paris  to  put  his  affairs  in  order.  He  had  debts,  of 
course,  as  a  member  of  his  family  without  debts  had 
never  been  known.  A  few  wild  extravagances,  of  one 
kind  or  another,  the  difficulty  he  had  in  denying  him- 
self anything,  had  plunged  him  into  financial  diffi- 
culties. He  had  written  to  Bontemps  and  the  worthy 
lawyer  had  shown  him  a  much  more  easy  way  out  of 
his  difficulties.  Here  was  a  possible  marriage  with  a 
dowry  of  sixty  million  francs. 

The  idea  of  such  an  enormous  fortune  somewhat 
dazzled  him.  It  brought  him  down  to  earth  again 
from  the  more  elevated  regions  in  which  he  had  been 
living  in  his  dreams. 

Sixty  millions!  It  meant  peace  and  happiness  for 
his  mother,  the  restoration  of  their  fallen  fortunes,  the 
probable  continuation  of  their  race.  He  could  live  at 
Blonay  again  and  it  meant  all  the  power  and  luxury 
that  he  loved,  and  all  this  a  woman  could  give  him. 


58  AMERICAN  NOBILITY 

His  thoughts  went  back  to  Miss  Ellis  and,  in  comic 
dismay,  he  asked  himself  what  this  heiress  might  want 
in  return  for  her  money. 

Although  Monsieur  Bontemps  had  spoken  of  Madame 
de  L6ne  in  a  very  tactful  way,  Jacques  understood 
that,  among  her  various  other  occupations,  she  served 
as  a  matchmaker  and  that  her  services  were  not  en- 
tirely disinterested.  The  idea  of  having  recourse  to 
a  matrimonial  agent  was  so  repugnant  to  him,  that 
twice  over  he  said  aloud :  "  No,  no,  it  is  quite 
impossible." 

He  then  tried  to  take  up  the  thread  once  more  of 
his  dream  of  adventure  and  glory,  but  he  could  not. 
It  all  seemed  vague  and  unreal,  like  a  dream  that 
vanishes  when  we  are  roused  too  suddenly.  His  mind, 
too,  was  full  of  the  thought  of  the  sixty  millions  and 
of  all  that  it  would  mean. 

"  I  will  go  and  see  this  American  girl,  at  any  rate," 
he  said  to  himself.  "  Perhaps  she  will  inspire  me 
with  an  invincible  dislike.  Everything  would  then  be 
easy  and  I  should  not  have  the  slightest  regret  at 
throwing  such  a  chance  away." 

When  once  he  had  made  up  his  mind,  Jacques  dressed 
quickly  and  went  straight  to  the  box-oflSce  at  the 
Opera.  He  examined  the  plan  and  chose  a  good  place 
for  his  observations.  He  took  a  seat  in  one  of  the 
boxes  on  the  third  floor,  one  of  those  boxes  in  the  side 
gallery.  He  knew  that  by  sitting  at  the  back,  in  the 
shade,  he  could  look  down  into  the  Keradieu's  box, 
without  being  seen  himself. 

Bontemps'  suggestion  had  disturbed  his  mind  to 
such  a  degree  that  he  was  in  a  highly  nervous  state 
all  the  rest  of  ihe  day.  He  had  the  greatest  difficulty 
in  concealing  his  agitation  from  his  mother.     In  order 


AMERICAN  NOBILITY  59 

not  to  meet  any  of  his  friends,  he  knew  that  he  must 
go  to  the  Opera  either  very  early  or  quite  late.  He 
chose  the  latter  alternative,  as  he  felt  too  impatient  to 
wait  there  long. 

He  was  as  slow  as  possible  over  dinner  and  then  he 
went  for  a  drive  to  the  entrance  to  the  Bois.  At  half- 
past  ten,  he  went  quietly  to  the  box  he  had  chosen, 
and,  taking  out  his  opera-glass,  proceeded  to  look 
round  the  house.  He  soon  saw  that  the  Baron  de 
Keradieu  and  his  wife  were  in  their  box  in  the  lower 
circle,  but  to  his  consternation,  instead  of  the  one 
American  girl  he  had  expected  to  see,  there  were  two. 

Bontemps  had  not  foreseen  this  possibility  and  he 
had  not  described  the  heiress.  Jacques  was  greatly 
perplexed.  He  looked  at  Clara  first  and  did  not  care 
for  her  at  all.  She  was  too  tall,  too  pink  and  white, 
and  reminded  him  distinctly  of  Miss  Ellis.  He  thought 
Annie  was  charming.  He  noticed  the  whiteness  of  her 
skin,  the  smallness  of  her  mouth,  and  her  pretty  figure. 
He  kept  his  glasses  fixed  on  her,  examining  her  in  the 
most  merciless  way  and  trying  to  guess  her  character. 
He  came  to  the  conclusion  that  she  would  make  a  very 
presentable  Marchioness  d'Anguilhon  and  that  he 
would  be  quite  capable  of  falling  in  love  with  her.  If 
she  should  prove  to  be  Miss  Villars,  the  question  was 
what  should  he  do? 

Jacques  was  just  in  the  right  frame  of  mind  for 
thinking  of  marriage.  His  heart  was  quite  free  and 
ready  for  any  serious  attachment. 

At  twenty-one,  he  had  had  a  very  passionate  love- 
aflFair  and  this  had  died  away,  after  consuming  all  his 
youthful  ardour.  Since  then,  he  had  had  various  fleet- 
ing fancies,  but  they  had  never  been  of  long  duration. 
He  was  one  of  those  men  who  seem  destined  to  attract 


60  AMERICAN  NOBILITY 

women's  love.  His  poverty  and  his  anxiety  about  the 
future  had  also  prevented  him  from  committing  himself 
seriously. 

On  leaving  the  Opera  that  night,  he  was  a  prey  to 
the  most  cruel  indecision.  He  went  straight  home, 
as  he  wanted  to  shut  himself  up  and  think  matters 
out.  To  go  to  bed  was  quite  out  of  the  question,  so 
he  set  a  light  to  his  fire,  and,  with  a  cigar  between 
his  lips,  sat  down  to  ask  himself,  in  the  silence  of  the 
night,  what  he  was  going  to  do.  The  choice  lay  be- 
tween marriage  and  Africa.  When  he  decided  on 
marriage,  the  exploring  expedition  seemed  to  him  most 
fascinating,  but  five  minutes  later,  he  had  a  vision  of 
Miss  Villars  and  her  millions.  All  night  long,  one  of 
those  royal  battles  was  waged  in  the  young  man's  mind 
which  must  delight  the  gods,  one  of  those  battles  be- 
tween the  higher  and  the  lower  sentiments,  between 
the  best  and  the  worst  of  human  nature. 

When  day  began  to  break,  Jacques'  face  bore  traces 
of  this  struggle  and,  from  its  expression,  it  was  very 
evident  that  there  had  been  a  moral  defeat.  He  had 
chosen  the  wealthy  marriage. 

"  I  must  go  with  the  times,"  he  had  said  to  himself. 
"  A  dowry  of  sixty  million  francs  is  not  to  be  met 
with  every  day.  If  I  do  not  succeed  there,  I  shall 
have  Africa  to  fall  back  upon." 

And  so  he  had  gone  with  the  times,  when  it  would 
have  been  finer  not  to  have  gone  with  them.  Yes, 
Africa  and  its  dangers  are  always  there,  but  the  fact 
that  he  had  not  preferred  them  to  money  had  lowered 
him  in  his  own  estimation. 

When  he  had  finally  made  up  his  mind,  he  went  to 
bed. 

"  I  wonder  what  my  fate  is  to  be?  "  he  asked  himself 


AMERICAN  NOBILITY  61 

once  more.  "  If  I  am  to  marry  this  American  girl, 
then  why,  for  the  last  nine  months,  has  this  other 
affair  been  allowed  to  haunt  me?  If,  on  the  other 
hand,  I  am  to  take  part  in  this  African  expedition, 
why  should  the  idea  of  this  marriage  have  been  put 
into  Madame  de  Line's  mind?  What  is  the  good  of  it 
all,  I  wonder?  " 

With  this  question  on  his  lips,  Jacques  went  to  sleep. 

What  is  the  good  of  it  all?  We  cannot  tell  and  yet 
everything  is  good.  There  is  nothing  useless  in  the 
moral  world  any  more  than  in  the  material  world. 
Unrealised  dreams,  impotent  desires,  apparently  fruit- 
less efforts,  and  the  most  fleeting  thoughts  are  all  the 
threads  which  serve  to  weave  human  lives,  to  shade 
and  diversify  them,  and  to  bind  them  to  each  other, 
and  it  is  only  the  study  of  these  Invisibles  that  can 
teach  us  how  and  whither  we  are  led. 

Before  Jacques  had  finished  dressing,  his  lawyer 
arrived. 

"  Ah,  you  gave  me  a  nice  riddle  to  solve,"  said  the 
young  man,  concealing  his  anxiety  with  a  smile. 
"  There  were  two  American  girls  with  the  Keradieus, 
last  night.  How  do  you  suppose  I  could  tell  which  was 
which?" 

"  Sapristi"  exclaimed  Bontemps.  "  I  completely 
forgot  the  cousin.  Well,  Monsieur  le  Marquis,  which 
do  you  want  to  be  Miss  Villars?  " 

"  The  shorter  of  the  two,  of  course.  The  one  with 
the  dark  blond  hair." 

"  Then  you  are  in  luck." 

"  Is  she  the  one?  Are  you  sure?  "  asked  the  Mar- 
quis, with  evident  emotion. 

"  I  am  quite  sure." 

"  Thank  God.    The  other  one  would  not  have  suited 


62  AMERICAN  NOBILITY 

me  at  all.  I  should  have  always  looked  as  though  I 
were  going  about  with  the  American  flag." 

"  Well,  that  would  not  be  very  bad  company/* 

"  No,  but  I  should  prefer  a  wife  of  a  less  pronounced 
type.     I  like  the  looks  of  Miss  Villars." 

"  Then  you  have  made  up  your  mind,  I  hope." 

The  colour  came  into  Jacques*  face  and  he  only 
replied  by  a  nod. 

"  I  congratulate  you,"  said  Monsieur  Bontemps. 

"  No  need,"  replied  the  young  man  drily. 

"  Excuse  me,  but  it  is  certainly  the  wisest  step  you 
could  take." 

"  I  only  regret  that  I  am  not  capable  of  certain 
follies." 

"  And  I,  Monsieur  le  Marquis,  I  only  hope  you  may 
succeed  as  regards  this  marriage,  for  I  heard  some 
bad  news,  yesterday.  The  Portuguese  Embassy  is  to 
have  a  house  of  its  own,  so  that  your  lease  will  not 
be  renewed.  You  would  find  it  very  difficult  to  let 
your  house,  on  account  of  the  high  rent,  so  that  you 
might  have  to  sell  it." 

"  That  is  the  last  straw,"  said  Jacques  with  an 
ironical  smile. 

"  After  things  have  been  at  their  worst,  they  must 
get  better,"  remarked  the  lawyer,  encouragingly. 

"  And  what  are  we  going  to  do  about  these  debts  ?  " 
asked  Jacques.  "'  I  must  have  my  mind  at  rest,  if  I 
am  to  make  love.  You  know  how  nervous  I  am.  If 
I  get  a  bill  that  I  cannot  pay,  I  am  bad-tempered  all 
day  long.    Have  you  spoken  to  your  friend  ?  " 

"  Yes,  she  will  lend  you  a  hundred  thousand  francs. 
The  only  thing  is,  she  insists,  absolutely,  on  two 
conditions,  if  she  is  to  lend  you  the  money." 

"  And  what  are  they  ?  " 


AMERICAN  NOBILITY  63 

"  In  the  first  place,  you  must  give  up  your  exploring 
expedition  and  devote  yourself  entirely  to  Miss  Villars. 
Then  you  must  talk  to  the  Duchess  de  Blanzac  and 
get  her  to  take  this  marriage  in  hand." 

"  Does  Madame  de  L6ne  know  the  Duchess  de 
Blanzac?"  asked  Jacques,  in  amazement. 

"  Very  well  indeed.  She  was  once  companion  to  her 
aunt  and  she  now  advises  her  in  all  her  business 
matters." 

The  Marquis  d'Anguilhon  strongly  objected  to  the 
idea  of  making  use  of  the  Duchess  de  Blanzac  in  this 
affair.  "  I  should  prefer  asking  the  Keradieus  to  help 
me,"  he  said.  "  The  Baron  is  one  of  my  greatest 
friends  and  his  wife  has  always  been  extremely  kind 
to  me." 

"  They  would  not  be  able  to  help  you  at  all  in  this 
matter.  The  Duchess  de  Blanzac  seems  to  have  taken 
a  great  fancy  to  Miss  Villars.  She  invites  her  often 
and  probably  knows  her  thoroughly  well  by  now.  She 
will  very  likely  be  able  to  give  you  a  few  hints  about 
her  character,  which  will  help  you  to  act  in  the  best 
way  possible.  Do  not  make  any  mistake  about  it. 
You  will  have  no  easy  task  if  you  are  to  win  this  girl." 

"  So  much  the  better,  it  will  be  all  the  more  inter- 
esting," answered  Jacques. 

"  So  much  the  worse,  you  mean,"  said  the  practical 
Bontemps.  "  At  any  rate,  you  will  need  a  friend  at 
court.  Madame  de  Blanzac  influences  every  one  who 
approaches  her.  She  is  a  very  shrewd  and  very  intelli- 
gent woman  of  the  world.  Madame  de  L^ne  is  con- 
vinced that  you  would  never  succeed  without  her  help, 
and  that  is  why  she  asks  you  to  allow  yourself  to  be 
guided  by  her." 

"  But  supposing  that  she  should  refuse  to  help  me?  " 


64  AMERICAN  NOBILITY 

"  Oh,  it  is  your  aflfair  to  persuade  her,  and  I  should 
advise  you  not  to  lose  a  moment.  Try  to  see  the 
Duchess  de  Blanzae  this  very  day  and  let  me  know 
the  result.  I  will  tell  Madame  de  Ldne,  so  that  she 
may  make  the  necessary  arrangements  for  advancing 
you  the  hundred  thousand  francs." 

"  At  what  interest  will  she  lend  the  money?" 

"  At  the  usual  rate,  six  per  cent." 

"  And  how  much  is  her  advice  to  cost  me  ?  "  asked 
Jacques,  slightly  embarrassed. 

"  Twenty-five  thousand  francs." 

"  Very  cheap,"  remarked  Jacques. 

"  Very  cheap,"  repeated  the  lawyer^^urtly. 

"  I  am  very  much  afraid,  Bontemps,  that  you  and 
Madame  de  Ldne  are  leading  me  on  to  what  will  prove 
to  be  a  failure  and  a  disappointment." 

"  I  should  be  very  sorry,  myself,  if  your  words  proved 
to  be  true.  Whenever  I  see  one  of  our  old  monuments 
disappear,  or  one  of  our  old  families  die  out,  it  seems 
to  me  that  France  is  losing  some  of  her  glory.  I 
should  consider  myself  very  lucky,  if,  through  any 
help  of  mine,  your  house  should  be  restored.  And 
now  we  must  go  to  work.  Do  not  forget  to  call  at 
my  office,  or  to  send  me  a  line,  when  you  have  seen 
the  Duchess  de  Blanzae." 

When  he  had  reached  the  door,  Bontemps  turned 
round  and  faced  Jacques. 

"  T  have  an  idea  that  this  marriage  will  take  place. 
Madame  de  Ldne  brings  good  luck  to  people." 

"  Well,  we  shall  see,"  answered  Jacques. 


CHAPTER  VI 

Among  the  women  of  the  Faubourg  St.  Germain,  the 
Duchess  de  Blan/.ac  stood  out  like  a  figure  in  relief, 
and  this  relief  was  due  to  the  contrasts  in  her  own 
nature. 

Her  mother  had  been  of  exceedingly  fair  complexion 
and  her  father  very  dark.  Their  two  temperaments 
were  discernible  in  her.  By  her  lithe  and  supple 
figure  and  her  sapphire  eyes  she  was  "  blonde,"  whilst 
from  her  father  she  had  inherited  her  thick  chestnut 
hair,  streaked  with  dull  gold  tints,  her  warm  white 
complexion,  and  her  vigour.  She  had  a  strongly  de- 
fined, hard  profile,  an  intellectual  face  with  beautiful, 
sad  eyes,  a  sensitive  mouth,  with  strongly  marked 
corners,  which  betrayed  her  most  fleeting  impressions. 

Tall  and  slender,  with  a  long  waist  and  rather 
sloping  shoulders,  Christiane  seemed  to  have  been  cast 
in  the  mould  of  antique  times.  There  was  an  uncon- 
scious pride  about  her.  She  carried  her  head  well 
and  her  deportment  was  admirable.  It  was  as  though 
she  possessed  what  American  women,  curiously  enough, 
call  "  royal  muscle." 

Whenever  she  appeared  at  any  gathering,  all  eyes 
turned  towards  her  and  kept  looking  at  her  again,  as 
though  fascinated  by  her  charm.  No  one  thought  of 
what  she  was  wearing,  but  everything  she  wore  looked 

5  65 


66  AMERICAN  NOBILITY 

well  on  her.  She  was  not  "  chic,"  but  she  had  the 
true  elegance,  which  is  personal  and  can  never  be 
imitated. 

In  her  character,  as  in  her  temperament,  there 
seemed  to  be  a  mixture  of  the  brunette  and  the  blonde, 
of  strength  and  gentleness.  Her  brain  was  intensely 
active,  whilst  her  imperious  nature  was  made  to  rule, 
to  command.  Education  and  convention  had  taught 
her  self-restraint,  but  not  submission.  She  had  a 
loving  heart,  but  no  love,  an  ar^ient  soul  with  no 
religion,  brilliant  faculties,  and  no  use  for  them. 
Christiane  should  have  felt  the  breath  of  the  Renais- 
sance blowing  over  her;  she  would  have  been  in  her 
element  amid  the  political  and  religious  passions  of 
the  sixteenth  century.  She  was  not  fitted  for  the  nar- 
row circle  in  which  our  modern  great  ladies  live  their 
lives.  Unconsciously  urged  on  by  her  ideas  and  her 
sentiment,  she  would  leave  the  beaten  track  occasion- 
ally and  accomplish  some  generous  act,  or  give  way 
to  some  enthusiastic  impulse.  She  was  then  taxed 
with  being  eccentric,  for  even  those  who  loved  her 
best  did  not  thoroughly  understand  her. 

The  Duchess  de  Blanzac  had  not  only  two  tempera- 
ments, with  which  to  contend.  She  came  of  two  races, 
which  were  in  direct  contrast  with  each  other.  Her 
mother  was  descended  from  one  of  those  French  dukes 
who  signed  their  name,  adding  "  by  the  grace  of  God," 
just  as  the  king  did,  whilst  her  father  was  a  son  of 
Basque  peasants,  but  a  peasant's  son  for  whom  Provi- 
dence had  reserved  a  brilliant  destiny.  His  parents 
had  been  drowned  on  their  way  out  to  Brazil.  The 
boy  had  been  rescued  and,  later  on,  adopted  by  one 
of  the  passengers.  Baron  Soria,  a  Portuguese  banker, 
living  at  Rio  de  Janeiro.     After  the  death   of  his 


AMERICAN  NOBILITY  67 

benefactor,  who  left  him  not  only  his  name,  but  his 
fortune,  he  came  to  Paris  to  settle  down.  He  was, 
at  first,  treated  rather  as  a  foreign  parvenu,  but  hav- 
ing, on  several  occasions,  proved  himself  not  only  a 
good  Frenchman,  but  a  man  who  did  honour  to  his 
country,  he  was  finally  received  everywhere.  When  he 
met  Gabrielle  d'Arangay,  Christiane's  mother,  he  fell 
passionately  in  love  with  her.  Although  belonging  to 
a  very  good,  old  family,  the  girl  had  a  very  insignifi- 
cant dowry  and  she  was  also  an  orphan,  living  with 
an  aunt  who  did  not  make  her  very  welcome.  Neither 
her  birth  nor  her  beauty  had  sufficed  for  procuring  a 
husband  for  her  of  her  own  rank.  Baron  Soria  was 
a  good-looking  man  and  there  was  nothing  vulgar 
about  him,  either  in  his  appearance  or  manners.  He 
had  a  large  fortune  and  was  considered  a  good  match, 
so  that  when  he  asked  for  Gabrielle's  hand,  he  was 
not  refused.  The  girl  was  now  twenty-five  years  of 
age  and  had  lost  some  of  her  early  illusions,  so  that 
she  was  willing  to  consent  to  a  mesalliance,  which 
would,  at  any  rate,  give  her  wealth  and  so  help  her 
to  realise  some  of  her  dreams. 

After  three  years  of  married  life,  Baroness  Soria 
d'Arangay  died,  leaving  a  little  daughter.  Baron 
Soria  asked  his  wife's  eldest  sister,  the  Countess  de 
Creil,  for  whom  he  had  the  greatest  respect,  if  she 
would  not  take  little  Christiane  to  live  with  her. 

"  I  could  bring  up  a  boy  better  than  you  could,"  he 
said,  "  but  a  girl  alarms  me.  I  could  never  make  a 
grande  dame  of  her  and,  to  my  way  of  thinking,  a 
grande  dame  is  perfection." 

The  Count  and  Countess  de  Creil  had  no  children 
of  their  own  and,  very  willingly,  undertook  to  bring 
up  their  little  niece. 


68  AMERICAN  NOBILITY 

Baron  Soria  sold  his  house  in  the  Faubourg  St. 
Honor6  and  only  took  a  bachelor's  flat  in  Paris.  Then, 
as  though  the  love  of  the  soil,  inherent  in  his  race,  had 
suddenly  awakened  within  him,  he  bought  a  large 
estate  near  Sevres,  which  he  converted  into  a  model 
farm  and  a  wonderful  rose  plantation.  This  country 
place  became  a  sort  of  open-air  nursery  for  little 
Christiane. 

Although  he  had  confided  his  daughter  to  the 
Countess  de  Creil,  Monsieur  Soria  took  a  lively  in- 
terest in  her  education.  Every  day,  in  all  weathers, 
the  child  was  taken  to  "  La  Rosette,"  as  the  estate 
was  named. 

Her  old  nurse  was  installed  there  with  her  family. 
Christiane  was  immediately  dressed  in  simple  gar- 
ments, thick  or  thin,  according  to  the  weather,  and 
then,  with  strong  shoes  on  her  feet,  allowed  to  have 
full  liberty.  As  Baron  Soria  took  a  daily  walk  to 
the  farm,  he  conducted  Christiane  back  with  him  to 
Paris.  Sometimes  he  spent  the  whole  afternoon  with 
her.  Whilst  grafting  and  pruning  his  rose-trees,  he 
talked  to  her  of  Brazil,  or  of  his  various  travels,  and 
taught  her  a  quantity  of  things.  The  child  simply 
adored  her  father.  She  understood  and  liked  his 
strength.  When  he  i>ut  his  arm  round  her  and  drew 
her  to  him,  she  used  to  tell  him  that  she  felt  as  though 
his  arm  was  round  her  for  the  rest  of  the  day. 

If  Christiane  had  been  brought  up  in  a  convent,  or 
amid  very  severe  surroundings,  with  her  refined  and 
nervous  temperament  and  her  mind  brimful  of  senti- 
ment, she  would  have  become  either  a  mystic  or  men- 
tally unhinged.  The  country  life  saved  her  from  this. 
It  was  a  moral  and  physical  tonic  for  her,  and  she 
inhaled  life  and  health  through  all  her  pores. 


AMERICAN  NOBILITY  69 

At  the  age  of  eighteen,  Mademoiselle  Soria  d'Arangay 
made  her  first  appearance  in  society  and  the  event 
created  quite  a  sensation.  All  who  approached  her 
felt  her  charm  and  her  superiority. 

The  Duke  de  Blanzac,  the  wealthiest  and  most  in- 
fluential man  of  the  Faubourg,  and  a  grand  seigneur 
in  the  full  acceptation  of  the  term,  fell  hopelessly  in 
love  with  her.  The  first  time  he  saw  her  cross  the  room 
he  was  fascinated  by  her  and  he  watched  her  every 
movement.  When  he  realised  that  he  was  in  love  with 
her  he  could  scarcely  believe  his  own  heart.  He  was 
forty-five  and  thought  he  had  finished  with  sentiment. 
He  proposed  and,  to  the  great  surprise  of  Christiane's 
friends  and  relatives,  she  accepted.  The  reason  was 
that  the  Duke  had  won  her  heart  as  a  child.  She 
had  often  admired  his  fine  horsemanship  and  his  dig- 
nified bearing.  Later  on,  she  thought  him  far  superior 
to  the  younger  men.  His  manners  were  so  courtly, 
and  then,  too,  he  was  so  refined.  Baron  Soria  raised 
some  objection,  on  account  of  the  disparity  of  age,  but 
it  was  all  in  vain,  as  Christiane  declared  that  he  was 
the  only  man  she  could  care  for  and  the  only  one  who 
inspired  her  with  respect.  She  was  ambitious  and 
liked  power,  so  that,  before  anything  else,  she  wanted 
as  high  a  position,  in  fact,  as  it  was  possible  for  her 
to  have.  She  felt  that  she  had  been  created  for  this. 
Her  marriage  with  the  Duke  placed  her  in  the  highest 
rank,  the  rank  that  her  mother's  family  had  occupied, 
and  this  gave  her  immense  satisfaction. 

The  marriage  was  a  very  happy  one.  The  Duchess 
dc  Blanzac  was  able  to  lead  the  brilliant  existence 
for  which  she  had  always  longed.  She  was  a  great 
social  success  and  had  joy  of  every  kind, — except  that 
of  motherhood.     She  was  greatly  flattered  and  courted, 


70  AMERICAN  NOBILITY 

but  no  man  succeeded  in  disturbing  the  equanimity  of 
her  life.  Monsieur  de  Blanzac  neglected  nothing  that 
might  serve  to  help  him  in  keeping  his  own  prestige, 
and  "handsome  Jean,"  even  when  married,  won  the 
day  over  all  his  rivals.  His  wife's  faithfulness  was 
certainly  his  greatest  triumph. 

Christiane  would  probably  have  discovered,  ulti- 
mately, the  shallowness  of  her  husband's  mind  and, 
when  once  she  had  awakened  to  this,  her  love  might 
have  ceased.  They  were  both  of  them  spared  such  a 
calamity,  as  the  Duke  died  after  six  years  of  mar- 
riage. The  memory  of  him,  and  her  deep  and  sincere 
grief,  influenced  Christiane's  after-life.  As  her  hus- 
band had  no  direct  heir,  he  left  his  wife  the  full 
control  and  use  of  all  his  wealth.  If  she  should  marry 
again,  the  title  and  fortune  would  revert  to  Count 
Louis  de  Challans,  a  distant  cousin,  who  was  very  poor 
and,  at  that  time,  a  sub-lieutenant  in  an  artillery  regi- 
ment. If  the  Duchess  remained  a  widow,  she  was  to 
take  the  rank  of  Dowager  Duchess  at  the  age  of  forty- 
five  and  put  the  heir  indicated  into  possession.  The 
said  heir  was  then  to  pay  her  an  annual  income  of 
a  hundred  thousand  francs.  If  the  Count  de  Challans 
were  to  commit  any  dishonourable  deed,  and  so  render 
himself  unworthy  of  bearing  the  Blanzac  name,  the 
Duchess  had  the  right  and  the  power  to  disinherit 
him,  in  favour  of  any  of  the  other  cousins  she  should 
think  most  worthy.  It  was  not  considered  likely, 
however,  that  such  a  contingency  would  arise. 

Christiane  considered  this  will  the  most  flattering 
proof  of  esteem  she  had  ever  had,  and  she  had  felt  a 
private  satisfaction  at  the  thought  that  she  was  capable 
of  justifying  her  husband's  confidence  in  her. 

Providence  took  away  from  the  Duchess,  one  after 


AMERICAN  NOBILITY  71 

another,  those  who  loved  her  best  and  who  were  the 
dearest  to  her.  Only  a  few  months  after  her  hus- 
band's death,  she  lost  her  father  and  then  her  aunt 
de  Creil.  All  this  meant  absolute  desolation  to  her, 
as,  at  the  age  of  twenty-five,  she  found  herself  alone 
in  the  world,  without  any  near  ties,  and  burdened 
with  all  the  responsibilities  of  high  rank  and  a  huge 
fortune. 

She  placed  herself  under  the  protection  of  her  uncle, 
the  Count  de  Creil.  There  was  a  detached  house  at 
the  end  of  her  own  garden.  She  had  this  fitted  up 
for  him,  so  that  he  might  feel  quite  at  home  and  that 
she  should  know  he  was  quite  near  to  her.  He  was 
a  distinguished  writer  and  his  historical  and  literary 
articles  were  published  in  the  best  reviews.  Besides 
this,  he  had  a  certain  authority  in  his  quality  of  noble- 
man and  perfect  gentleman,  so  that  no  one  could  have 
been  better  qualified  to  act  as  her  guide  and  pro- 
tector. She  had  been  more  or  less  his  pupil,  for  it 
was  he  who  had  directed  her  studies  and  turned  her 
thoughts,  as  it  were,  towards  the  light. 

After  her  marriage,  he  had  naturally  lost  some  of 
his  influence  with  her  and  he  had  very  much-  feared 
that  social  life  might  make  her  less  broad-minded,  so 
that  he  could  not  help  feeling  a  certain  joy  when  she 
came  under  his  care  once  more. 

The  grief  which  Christiane  felt  after  her  successive 
losses  did  not  fail  to  react  on  her  physically.  Anaemia 
began  its  work  of  destruction,  bringing  in  its  train 
sleeplessness,  languidness,  a  distaste  for  everything, 
and  morbid  thoughts.  Her  large,  blue  eyes  shone  with 
sleeplessness,  her  lips  lost  their  colour,  and  it  seemed 
to  be  a  great  effort  to  her  to  move  about.  The  Count 
de  Creil  was  very  much  concerned  at  the  change  in 


72  AMERICAN  NOBILITY 

her,  and  one  of  his  friends,  Dr.  Moreau,  who  often 
saw  her  at  her  uncle's  house,  was  still  more  concerned. 

As  a  rule,  priests  and  doctors  know  people  least. 
The  former  only  trouble  about  their  souls  and  the 
latter  about  their  bodies,  and  this  incomplete  vision 
makes  them  powerless  to  do  their  charges  good  or  to 
cure  them.  Dr.  Moreau  was  an  exception  to  this  rule. 
He  did  not  make  use  of  his  science  for  earning  money, 
but  for  studying  the  human  being,  about  whom  he  felt 
an  intense  curiosity.  He  would  have  thought  it  quite 
beneath  him  to  go  to  his  patients  just  for  money  and 
to  feel  their  pulses,  look  at  their  tongues,  and  hurry 
away  without  taking  time  to  study  them.  He  spent 
whole  nights,  sometimes  at  the  bedside  of  patients 
whose  lives  and  souls  he  had  studied.  He  worked  for 
their  minds  quite  as  much  as  for  their  bodies,  and  he 
made  use  of  all  the  springs,  such  as  religion,  faith, 
love,  or  imagination,  which  might  help  to  set  the 
machinery  in  order  once  more.  He  would  spare  no 
trouble,  in  order  to  procure  for  one  of  his  patients 
some  joy  that  he  considered  necessary  for  counter- 
balancing some  worry  that  was  gnawing  at  the  heart. 
Most  of  his  own  fortune  was  spent  in  experiments 
of  this  kind.  His  colleagues  looked  upon  him  as  a 
poet,  a  dreamer,  and  a  Utopian,  but  they  frequently 
had  recourse  to  him  in  difficult  cases,  and  they  owned 
that  his  diagnoses  were  infallible. 

Dr.  Moreau  did  not  care  much  for  society  women. 
Their  ignorance  and  futility  annoyed  him,  their 
extraordinary  aches  and  pains  always  made  him  feel 
distrustful,  and  their  lack  of  sincerity  exasperated 
him.  The  Duchess  de  Blanzac  was,  perhaps,  the  only 
one  who  had  ever  interested  him.  He  had  even  chosen 
her  as  a  subject  for  study.     He  liked  to  talk  to  her 


AMERICAN  NOBILITY  73 

and  to  argue  with  her.  She  was  just  the  woman  he 
had  always  needed  to  help  him  to  carry  out  his 
humanitarian  schemes.  He  longed  to  make  use  of  her 
faculties  for  the  benefit  of  the  unfortunates.  He  knew 
that  she  gave  away  large  sums  of  money,  but  he  saw 
that  her  charity  gave  her  no  satisfaction,  except  the 
feeling  of  having  accomplished  a  duty.  He  wanted 
her  to  have  something  better  than  this.  He  was  the 
first  to  notice  the  change  in  Christiane  and  he  watched, 
with  ever-increasing  anxiety,  the  various  phases  of  the 
crisis  through  which  she  was  passing.  From  a  feeling 
of  delicacy,  he  had  abstained  from  offering  any  advice. 
He  began  to  fear,  though,  that  she  might  have  re- 
course to  narcotics  for  her  sleeplessness,  or  that  she 
might  even  try  morphia.  He  therefore  decided  to 
speak  to  her  and,  just  at  this  juncture,  she  gent  for 
him. 

After  writing  out  a  prescription  and  giving  instruc- 
tions about  her  diet,  he  entered,  courageously,  into 
what  was  really  the  province  of  the  confessor.  In  a 
gentle,  discreet  way,  he  probed  to  the  very  soul  of 
his  patient.  He  then  did  the  best  he  could  towards 
healing  it,  not  with  commonplace  words,  but  with  sin- 
cere sympathy  and  a  sort  of  paternal  tenderness  that 
was  infinitely  sweet  to  the  sick  woman.  He  then 
showed  her  the  necessity  of  rising  above  her  grief,  of 
coming  out  of  herself,  of  working  for  the  welfare  of 
her  fellow-creatures,  of  doing  the  kind  of  good  which, 
in  its  turn,  would  help  forward  other  good  work.  He 
showed  her  the  humanitarian  aspect  of  true  charity, 
and  this  aspect  could  not  fail  to  appeal  to  the  mind 
of  Christiane.  She  began  to  discover  all  kinds  of 
charitable  works  to  undertake,  plans  to  elaborate,  and 
a   whole  edifice  to   construct.     She  soon   entered   so 


74  AMERICAN  NOBILITY 

thoroughly  into  the  doctor's  schemes,  that  she  told 
him  she  was  quite  ready  to  work  with  him. 

She  began  at  once,  and  the  new  interest  revived 
her  in  the  most  miraculous  manner.  She  went  to  the 
rescue  of  several  artists,  she  provided  the  means  for 
some  workers  to  take  the  holiday  of  which  they  were 
sorely  in  need,  and  she  gave  marriage  portions  to 
several  girls.  Five  families  owed  their  existence  to 
her  and  when,  one  day,  Dr.  Moreau  brought  her 
triumphantly  a  magnificent  specimen  of  humanity,  in 
the  form  of  the  baby  of  a  young  couple  whom  she 
had  helped  to  marry,  her  woman's  heart  had  been 
stirred  to  its  very  depths. 

In  spite  of  her  youthfulness,  Christiane  could  main- 
tain the  dignity  of  her  rank,  in  a  way  that  put  her 
above  all  criticism.  She  managed  to  conquer  for  her- 
self absolute  freedom,  and  to  get  all  the  privileges 
accorded  to  dowagers.  People  spoke  of  her  as  "  the 
Duchess  "  just  as  they  would  have  said  "  the  Queen." 
She  was  consulted  about  all  kinds  of  things,  and  even 
those  who  did  not  care  much  for  her  could  not  help 
acknowledging  her  superiority. 

Christiane  kept  up  the  ChMeau  de  Blanzac  in  the 
same  style  as  during  her  husband's  lifetime.  She  man- 
aged her  household  admirably,  having  people  around 
her  who  could  second  her  and  dismissing  pitilessly  the 
useless  ones. 

After  three  years  of  retirement  she  went  back  into 
the  world  and,  both  in  Paris  and  in  her  country  house, 
she  fulfilled  conscientiously  all  her  social  duties.  She 
gave  all  kinds  of  entertainments,  thus  providing  work 
for  numbers  of  people.  The  organisation  of  her  balls 
and  dinners  interested  her  immensely.  It  was  a  way 
of  exercising  her  power,  her  imagination,  and  her  taste. 


AMERICAN  NOBILITY  75 

In  the  midst  of  her  large  social  circle,  the  Duchess 
de  Blanzac  had  created  for  herself  an  inner  circle  of 
tried  friends,  of  intelligent  and  agreeable  men,  whose 
chivalrous  and  almost  loving  friendship  was  very- 
pleasant  to  her,  for  she  delighted  in  being  loved.  She 
was  at  home  to  these  chosen  few,  whom  she  styled 
her  "  faithful  friends,"  every  day,  from  two  to  four, 
but  she  was  not  at  home  to  any  one  else.  She  received 
them  in  the  room  where  she  usually  sat.  This  red 
drawing-room  was  at  the  end  of  the  ground  floor  suite 
of  rooms.  Its  dimensions  and  severe  decoration  suited 
her  face  and  figure.  The  Dutch  pictures,  the  piano, 
the  books,  the  huge  plants  gave  it  a  very  cosy  aspect, 
so  that  every  one  felt  at  home  there.  The  two  hours' 
conversation  with  congenial  spirits  was  a  daily  treat 
for  Christiane,  and  it  enabled  her  to  forget,  more 
easily,  all  the  commonplace  conversation  she  was 
obliged  to  hear  at  other  times. 

Although  she  had  a  few  devoted  friends,  and  a  fair 
number  of  admirers,  she  also  had  her  enemies.  It 
was  very  difficult  for  her  to  put  up  with  stupidity 
and  affectation,  and  she  could  not  always  conceal  her 
antipathy  and  her  disdain. 

Some  people  accused  her  of  holding  theories  which 
they  termed  "  modern  "  and  she  was  blamed  for  allow- 
ing herself  to  be  guided  by  Dr.  Moreau.  Such  people 
thought,  no  doubt,  that  a  Jesuit  would  have  been  a 
more  suitable  adviser. 

Christiane  was  keenly  sensitive  to  all  the  poetry  of 
Catholicism.  She  loved  the  liturgical  chanting,  the 
mystery  of  the  tabernacle,  and  the  religious  ceremonies. 
She  never  lingered  long,  however,  over  the  dogmas, 
and  always  turned  her  thoughts  resolutely  away  from 
them.     She    performed    the    duties    imposed    by    the 


7G  AMERICAN  NOBILITY 

Church,  more  for  the  sake  of  being  in  communion 
with  her  own  people  than  from  any  real  faith.  The 
church-goers  owed  her  a  grudge  for  her  lack  of  zeal 
in  so-called  religious  matters,  and  they  could  scarcely 
believe  it  possible  that,  with  such  lukewarm  piety,  she 
should  remain  morally  irreproachable. 

Although  Christiane  did  not  usually  care  for 
foreigners,  she  had  been  attracted  by  Madame  de 
Keradieu,  and  the  two  women  had  become  rather 
intimate. 

On  returning  to  Paris,  in  March,  she  heard  of  the 
arrival  of  Madame  de  Keradieu's  relatives  and  asked 
to  have  them  introduced  to  her.  She  did  not  care  for 
Clara  at  all,  but  she  thought  Annie  attractive  and 
liked  her. 

Christiane  was  not  sorry  to  obtain  some  influence 
over  the  wealthy  heiress  and  she  invited  the  two 
cousins  to  luncheon  several  times.  She  then  asked 
them  to  a  quiet  dinner,  at  which  there  were  only  to 
be  sixteen  guests,  and  this  was  to  be  followed  by  a 
reception. 

The  evening  before  the  dinner,  Christiane  received  a 
line  from  the  Duke  d'Ormeuse,  saying  that  he  could 
not  be  present.  On  looking  down  her  visiting  list,  for 
some  one  to  take  his  place,  she  came  to  the  name  of 
the  Marchioness  d'Anguilhon. 

"  What  a  pity  her  son  is  away,"  she  said  to  herself, 
"  he  would  have  done  very  well." 

At  the  very  moment  when  this  idea  crossed  her  mind, 
Jacques  was  leaving  his  rooms  to  come  and  call  on 
her. 


CHAPTER  VII 

The  Marquis  d'Anguilhon  aud  Madame  de  Blanzac 
were  very  old  friends.  They  had  always  known  each 
other.  They  had  taken  their  first  communion  on  the 
same  day  at  the  Church  of  St.  Clotilde.  They  had 
gone  to  the  same  dancing  class  and  had  met  at  all 
the  children's  parties  of  the  Faubourg.  At  the  age  of 
fourteen,  Jacques  was  in  love  with  Christiane,  and  it 
was  thanks  to  this  little  love  affair  that  he  had  experi- 
enced the  first  pangs  of  jealousy  and  known  the  joy 
of  loving.  He  had  gravely  declared  to  the  Abb6,  who 
gave  him  lessons,  that  he  would  never  marry  any  one 
but  Mademoiselle  Soria. 

As  Christiane  was  the  same  age  as  Jacques  she,  of 
course,  soon  went  ahead  of  him  and,  as  they  grew 
older,  he  could  only  admire  her  from  afar.  He  was 
greatly  occupied  with  his  studies  and  had  just  taken  his 
bachelor's  degree  when  she  married.  He  was  present 
at  the  wedding,  but  his  heart  was  full  of  rage  and 
sorrowful  anger.  He  would  have  drawn  down  upon 
the  head  of  "  handsome  Jean  "  anything  but  blessings, 
and  he  had  not  dared  trust  himself  to  go  into  the 
vestry  and  offer  his  congratulations  to  the  bride  and 
bridegroom. 

Later  on,  Jacques  fell  in  love  with  a  well-known 
Russian  lady,  who  was  divorced  from  her  husband, 

77 


78  AMERICAN  NOBILITY 

and  his  liaison  with  her  kept  him  rather  aloof  from 
the  rest  of  the  world.  Then  came  the  death  of  his 
father  and  his  own  financial  ruin.  Christiane,  on  her 
side,  had  had  sorrow  after  sorrow,  and  they  had  met 
very  rarely  during  all  this  time. 

When  the  Duchess  de  Blauzac  began  to  receive  again, 
she  welcomed  Jacques  to  her  house  as  an  old  friend, 
and  all  the  more  cordially  as  he  was  not  happy.  Each 
season,  she  invited  him  to  Blanzac  for  the  shooting 
and,  in  Paris,  he  came  to  all  her  entertainments.  Be- 
side this,  she  often  went  to  see  his  mother,  sent  her 
flowers  and  fruit,  and  paid  her  all  kinds  of  charming 
little  attentions. 

Jacques  went  frequently  to  call  on  the  Duchess, 
between  two  and  four.  Her  wit  entertained  him  and 
her  elegance,  her  voice,  and  her  manners  charmed  him 
so  thoroughly,  that  he  felt  quite  happy  when  with  her. 
A  glance  from  her  blue  eyes,  a  clasp  of  her  hand,  in 
which  she  knew  how  to  put  so  much  real  friendship, 
soothed  his  irritation  and  chased  away  his  discontent. 

Although  Christiane  was  exactly  his  own  age,  he 
always  looked  upon  her  as  older,  and  he  even  felt  as 
though  she  belonged  to  another  generation.  This  im- 
pression, probably  due  to  the  fact  that  she  had  mar- 
ried early,  gave  a  shade  of  reverence  to  his  liking 
for  her. 

All  this  should  have  made  it  more  easy  for  him  to 
carry  out  Madame  de  Line's  wishes.  It  was  exces- 
sively painful  to  him  to  broach  the  subject  of  his 
wish  to  marry  the  American  heiress  to  Christiane,  and 
the  idea  of  asking  her  to  help  him  was  still  more 
painful.  He  had  a  sort  of  intuition  that  she  would 
not  like  it. 

He  walked  slowly  towards  the  Rue  de  Varenne,  his 


AMERICAN  NOBILITY  79 

eyes  fixed  on  the  ground  and  his  heart  full  of  anguish. 
The  town  house  of  the  Anguilhons,  at  present  rented 
to  strangers,  stood  next  to  the  Duchess  de  Blanzac's. 
The  gates  were  open,  and  Jacques  looked  inside.  The 
courtyard  was  badly  kept  and  had  a  dreary,  deserted 
aspect.  This  gave  him  a  shock.  He  drew  himself  up 
with  a  resolute  air,  and  it  was  with  a  firmer  tread 
that  he  entered  the  house  of  the  Duchess  de  Blanzac. 

When  Christiane  caught  sight  of  him,  she  uttered 
an  exclamation  of  delight,  advanced  to  meet  him,  and 
held  out  her  hand. 

"  Is  it  really  you !  "  she  said  as  Jacques  kissed  her 
hand.     "  Well,  it  is  simply  Providence  who  sent  you." 

"  I  only  wish  it  were,"  answered  the  young  man, 
smiling. 

"  I  was  regretting  your  absence  only  five  minutes 
ago." 

"  To  what  do  I  owe  that  honour?  " 

"  You  shall  know  soon.     Sit  down." 

The  Duchess  pointed  to  a  chair  for  her  visitor  and 
sat  down  herself  on  her  little  sofa,  with  its  cushions 
of  soft  coloured  silks. 

"Have  you  just  come  straight  from  Algeria?"  she 
asked. 

"  No,  I  stayed  a  few  days  at  Cannes." 

"When  did  you  get  here?" 

"  On  Saturday  evening." 

"  How  odd !  I  was  thinking  of  you  on  Sunday,  in 
church.  Your  mother  was  there  at  the  one  o'clock 
Mass.  She  very  rarely  comes  at  that  hour.  She  was 
praying  so  fervently  that  I  envied  her,  and  I  said 
to  myself  that  she  must  be  praying  for  you." 

The  expression  of  Jacques'  face  softened  suddenly. 

"  For  me?    Oh,  yes,  it  probably  was  for  me.     I  must 


so  AMERICAN  NOBILITY 

be  pretty  well  known  up  above.  I  am  quite  sure  that 
mother  would  like  to  die,  if  she  felt  sure  that,  when 
once  she  was  with  God,  she  could  obtain  more  happi- 
ness for  her  son." 

"  Poor  woman ! "  said  Christiane  gently.  "  I  do 
hope,  for  her  sake,  that  you  are  not  thinking  of 
starting  ofiE  again  immediately?" 

The  Marquis  wisely  seized  the  opportunity  this 
presented  to  him. 

"  That  depends  entirely  on  you,"  he  said. 

"  On  me?"  exclaimed  Christiane.  "  Well,  then,  you 
can  unpack  your  trunk  at  once,  for  I  very  much  dislike 
seeing  gaps  in  my  circle  of  friends.  What  can  I  do 
to  keep  you  here  ?  " 

Jacques  was  somewhat  disconcerted  by  the  large 
blue  eyes  that  were  fixed  on  him  questioningly. 

"  Come,  explain,"  said  Christiane. 

"  I  am  thinking  of  marrying." 

"  Ah,  and  you  want  me  to  help  you?  ". 

Jacques  nodded,  without  saying  a  word. 

"  I  hope  you  are  not  going  to  ask  me  to  introduce 
you  to  the  famous  heiress  ?  "  said  the  Duchess  laughing. 

"  I  am,  though." 

«Ah,  no,  not  that!" 

These  words  literally  escaped  Christiane's  lips.  She 
heard  them  herself  distinctly,  just  as  though  another 
person  had  uttered  them.  She  was  ashamed  of  her 
vehemence  and  the  colour  came  into  her  cheeks. 

"  No,  not  that,"  she  repeated  more  gently.  "  It  is 
impossible.  Ever  since  people  have  discovered  that  I 
see  a  great  deal  of  Miss  Villars,  I  hear  of  nothing 
but  her.  Ten  persons — ^you  hear — ten  have  already 
been  to  ask  me  to  propose  either  a  son,  a  brother,  or 
a  friend  to  her.    I  have  refused.     In  the  first  place, 


AMERICAN  NOBILITY  81 

one  does  not  propose  a  husband  to  an  American  girl, 
as  one  would  for  a  French  girl,  especially  when  the 
American  girl  has  declared,  categorically,  that  she  will 
not  marrj'  in  Europe,  as  this  one  has  done.  Whoever 
has  put  this  idea  into  your  mind  ?  " 

"  My  lawyer,  Bontemps.  I  took  his  advice  and  went 
to  the  Opera,  last  night,  to  see  Miss  Villars.  I  watched 
her  through  my  glasses  for  more  than  an  hour  and, 
quite  independently  of  her  money,  I  quite  like  her." 

"  Really?"  said  Christiane,  with  a  touch  of  irony  in 
her  voice. 

"  Yes,  really,"  repeated  Jacques. 

"  Well,  if  it  is  not  for  her  fortune,  I  doubt  very 
much  whether  she  could  make  you  happy.  She  is  in- 
telligent, well-bred,  but — your  two  natures  are  so 
different " 

"  One  could  not  be  very  unhappy  with  an  intelligent, 
well-bred  wife.  Contrasts  often  produce  the  deepest 
affection." 

"  The  strongest  passions,  you  mean.  According  to 
my  way  of  thinking,  a  certain  affinity  is  necessary  for 
married  life,  and,  to  be  quite  frank,  I  do  not  think 
there  would  be  much  between  you  and  Miss  Villars. 
You  are  always  up  in  the  air,  and  she  is  very  much 
down  here.  However,  an  heiress  worth  sixty  million 
francs  cannot  be  discussed,"  said  the  Duchess  in 
conclusion,  in  rather  a  hard  way. 

Jacques  coloured  slightly,  but  answered  with  dignity. 

"  You  know  my  position,"  he  said.  "  If  I  am  to 
restore  our  fallen  house,  I  must  marry  a  very  rich 
wife.  There  is  a  lack  of  grandeur  in  the  means  em- 
ployed, I  grant,  but  there  is  no  choice." 

"  Oh,  I  am  not  blaming  you,"  said  Madame  de 
Blanzac,    promptly.     "  If    it    were    a    question    of    a 


82  AMERICAN  NOBILITY 

French  girl,  I  would  help  you,  willingly,  but  in  the 
case  of  Miss  Villars,  my  intervention  would  do  no 
good.  It  would  do  harm,  even.  The  only  thing  is  to 
make  her  care  for  you.  I  can  give  you  an  oppor- 
tunity for  beginning  to  pay  attention  to  her.  The 
day  after  to-morrow,  I  am  having  a  little  dinner-party 
and  a  reception  afterwards.  I  thought  you  were  still 
away,  or  I  should  have  invited  you.  The  Duke 
d'Ormeuse  cannot  come  at  the  last  minute.  You  must 
come  instead  of  him.  For  these  informal  dinners,  I 
like  to  choose  my  guests.  The  Keradieus  are  coming 
and  Miss  Villars  and  her  cousin.  You  will  make  her 
acquaintance  and,  after  that,  you  will  not  need  me, 
I  imagine." 

"On  the  contrary,  I  shall  need  the  advice  of  an  intelli- 
gent woman  with  keen  perception.  In  an  affair  of 
this  kind,  it  is  absolutely  necessary.  It  is  quite  dif- 
ferent making  love  to  an  American  girl.  If  I  am  left 
to  myself,  I  shall  make  all  kinds  of  mistakes.  I  am 
so  convinced  of  what  I  say,  that,  if  you  desert  me,  I 
shall  give  up  my  scheme." 

"  But  it  would  be  a  great  responsibility  for  me," 
urged  Christiane,  gravely. 

"  Yes,  perhaps  it  would,"  replied  Jacques,  thought- 
fully. "  As  a  matter  of  fact,  I  had  not  realised  how 
much  I  was  asking  you.  Forgive  me,  I  have  no  right 
to  ask  such  a  thing." 

"  Ah,  it  is  not  nice  of  you  to  say  that ! "  exclaimed 
Christiane.  "  Our  old  friendship  warranted  your  con- 
sulting me.  I  should  have  been  hurt,  if  you  had  gone 
to  any  one  else.  I  am  hesitating  about  helping  in  this 
marriage,  because  it  seems  an  impossible  one  to  me 
and  I  fear  that  you  may  have  a  refusal,  which  would 
be  humiliating.     However,  in  order  to  prove  to  you 


AMERICAN  NOBILITY  83 

my  willingness  to  help  you,  I  will  think  the  matter 
over,  as  lawyers  say.     If  not " 

"  If  not,  you  leave  me  to  my  bad  luck.     So  be  it." 

"  And  now,"  said  Christiane,  "  tell  me  about  Algeria. 
Did  you  enjoy  yourself  while  you  were  there?" 

"  Enjoy  is  not  exactly  the  word.  I  had  a  great  deal 
of  real  pleasure  though." 

Just  as  Jacques  had  said  this,  the  Viscount  de 
Xozay  and  the  Prince  de  Nolles  arrived.  They  shook 
hands,  told  each  other  various  scraps  of  news,  and 
then  the  conversation  turned  naturally  on  Algeria,  and 
after  that  on  other  subjects. 

When  Jacques  left,  Christiane  said  to  him : 

"  Come  to-morrow,  a  little  before  two,  and  I  will 
give  you  my  answer." 

The  precarious  situation  of  the  Marquis  d'Anguilhon 
was  a  subject  of  anxiety  to  Christiane.  She  had 
noticed  that  people  were  beginning  to  forget  him,  and 
that  he  himself  went  abroad  more  and  more.  It  had 
frequently  occurred  to  her  that  a  wealthy  marriage 
might  save  him,  and  she  had  often  said  to  herself  that 
she  would  urge  this  on  him.  She  did  not,  however, 
like  the  idea  of  his  marrying  Miss  Villars.  The 
thought  of  it  caused  her  a  sort  of  vague  sorrow,  which 
she  put  down  to  disappointment  in  him.  The  girl  was 
a  foreigner  and  too  rich  for  any  one  very  poor.  It 
seemed  to  her  that  both  those  considerations  ought  to 
have  weighed  with  Jacques.  She  then  said  to  herself 
that  she  was  exi)ecting  too  much  and  that  God  had 
not,  perhaps,  yet  created  the  mdn  who  could  resist 
the  temptation  of  sixty  millions.  This  figure  repre- 
sented a  great  force,  a  force  that  she  herself  would 
rather  like  to  have  in  her  hands.  For  the  Marquis 
<rAnguilhon  it  meant  happiness  and  triumph.      The 


84  AMERICAN  NOBILITY 

question  was,  had  he  any  chance  of  success?  8he 
remembered  all  that  Madame  de  Keradieu  had  told 
her  about  the  Villars  family,  their  position  and  their 
Protestantism.  She  thought  over  the  various  conver- 
sations she  had  had  with  Annie,  she  thought  of  her 
independent  character  and  of  her  indifference  about 
the  social  distinctions  of  the  Old  World.  Knowing 
full  well  that  she  could  aspire  to  some  of  the  highest 
titles,  the  young  girl  did  not  care  about  any  of  them. 
She  seemed  to  be  enjoying  herself  in  Paris,  but  she 
was  essentially  American  and  would  not  easily  be  in- 
duced to  give  up  her  country.  Was  she  likely  to  fall 
in  love  with  any  one?  Christiane  thought  of  her  cold 
and  childlike  expression  and  was  inclined  to  think  that 
she  was  incapable  of  falling  in  love.  No,  she  could 
never  have  dreamed  of  a  Prince  Charming,  nor  yet 
have  made  for  herself  an  ideal.  If  she  ever  were  to 
fall  in  love,  though,  she  would  not  stop  at  anything. 
The  resolute  expression  of  her  mouth  showed  that  she 
had  a  strong  will.  Would  Jacques'  refinement,  his 
distinction,  and  his  perfect  manners  make  any  im- 
pression on  her?  One  minute,  Christiane  thought  they 
might,  and  the  next  that  they  would  not.  Her  vision, 
which  was  usually  so  clear  and  so  rapid,  was  now 
strangely  confused.  Then,  too,  she  felt  a  strong  re- 
pugnance to  helping  in  this  marriage.  She  would  be 
accused  of  inviting  Miss  Villars  for  the  sake  of  per- 
suading her  to  marry  the  Marquis  d'Anguilhon,  and 
this  idea  was  extremely  disagreeable.  As  Jacques  had 
declared,  though,  that  he  would  give  up  his  scheme  if 
she  would  not  help  him,  she  felt,  in  a  certain  measure, 
obliged  to  do  what  she  could,  and  this  annoyed  her. 

As  she  lay  resting  on  the  sofa  in  her  dressing-room, 
as  she  usually  did  for  a  time  after  her  visitors  had 


AMERICAN  NOBILITY  85 

gone  and  after  she  had  been  out,  she  was  thinking  it 
all  over  again  and  was  annoyed  with  herself  for  her 
indecision.  Just  at  this  moment,  a  servant  came  to 
ask  if  Madame  de  L^ne  might  see  her.  She  gave  orders 
for  the  visitor  to  be  shown  in,  and  in  a  short  time 
Madame  de  Lene  appeared. 

She  was  a  woman  of  about  sixty  years  of  age,  and 
rather  distinguished-looking.  Her  face  was  framed  by 
side  curls  of  white  hair,  and  lighted  up  by  her  keen, 
intelligent  little  eyes.  There  was  a  kind-hearted, 
good-natured  look  about  her.  She  gave  Madame  de 
Blanzac  a  detailed  account  of  some  business  trans- 
action and  then  said  to  her,  abruptly: 

"  The  Marquis  d'Anguilhon  has  been  to  see  you  this 
afternoon,  has  he  not  ?  " 

"  How  do  you  know  ?  "  asked  the  Duchess,  surprised. 

"  I  sent  him, — ^indirectly,  of  course,  for  I  have  never 
spoken  to  him." 

"  Ah,  then  this  idea  of  his  marrying  Miss  Villars 
comes  from  you?  I  might  have  thought  of  that," 
said  the  Duchess,  getting  up  quickly.  "  You  might, 
at  least,  have  consulted  me  first,"  she  added  with  an 
expression  of  annoyance.  "  In  the  first  place,  what  do 
you  know  of  this  American  girl?  " 

"  Not  much,  except  that  she  says  she  will  not  marry 
a  Frenchman." 

Christiane  had  taken  a  seat  in  front  of  her  dressing- 
table  and  she  was  now  combing  her  hair  nervously. 
She  stopped  short,  thinking  Madame  de  L6ne  was 
joking,  and  the  expression  in  her  eyes  at  that  moment 
was  by  no  means  encouraging. 

"  And  as  people  nearly  always  do  what  they  do  not 
wish  to,"  continued  Madame  de  L6ne,  calmly,  "  it 
occurred  to  me  that  if  some  one  verv  attractive  were 


86  AMERICAN  NOBILITY 

to  t.ike  it  into  his  head  to  make  her  like  him,  he 
might  succeed." 

The  originality  of  this  argument  completely  dis- 
armed Madame  de  Blanzac. 

"  You  are  very  philosophical,"  she  said,  smiling. 

"  My  experience  of  life  has  not  been  lost  on  me ; 
that  is  all." 

"  And  in  your  wisdom,  you  have  come  to  the  con- 
clusion that  Monsieur  d'Anguilhon  is  the  '  some  one ' 
who  might  fascinate  Miss  Villars?" 

"  I  am  sure  of  it.  He  has  all  the  qualities  necessary. 
When  he  was  a  child,  I  often  met  him  out  on  his 
walks  with  the  Abb6  who  was  his  tutor.  He  inter- 
ested me  then,  and  I  used  to  turn  round  to  watch 
him.  He  looked  like  a  little  prince  in  those  days, 
and  at  present  he  looks  like  a  grand  seigneur." 

"  Yes,  he  does,"  said  Christiane,  with  a  fixed  gaze 
in  her  eyes,  as  though  she  had  a  mental  vision  of 
Jacques'  face. 

"  I  flatter  myself  that  my  idea  is  a  happy  one." 

"  And  how  much  do  you  want  for  the  idea?" 

"  Twenty-five  thousand  francs." 

"  The  price  of  a  surgical  operation,"  said  the 
Duchess,  laughing. 

"  Yes,"  answered  Madame  de  L^ne,  "  and  the  opera- 
tion will  cure  Monsieur  d'Anguilhon  of  his  poverty 
and  prevent  him  from  going  out  to  die  in  Africa." 

"To  die  in  Africa?    What  do  you  mean?" 

"  Do  you  not  know  that  he  has  volunteered  to  take 
part  in  an  exploring  expedition?" 

"  He  has  not  told  me  a  word  about  that." 

"  Well,  it  is  a  plan  he  has  been  thinking  of  for  some 
time,  and  he  was  just  about  to  carry  it  out.  He 
wanted  to  put  his  affairs  in  order  before  starting, 


AMERICAN  NOBILITY  87 

and  to  pay  his  debts.  He  needed  a  large  sum  of  money 
and  I  ofifered  to  find  it  for  him,  provided  that  he 
proposed  to  Miss  Villars  and  that  you  would  help 
him." 

"  Oh,  if  that  is  how  matters  stand,  you  were  quite 
right,"  said  Christiane,  impetuously.  "  His  mother 
would  be  fearfully  unhappy  without  him.  There  is 
only  one  thing  I  fear,  and  that  is  that  you  have  put 
him  on  one  of  those  wrong  tracks,  which  are  constantly 
to  be  found  in  life  and  which  only  lead  us  on  to 
disappointments." 

"  Well,  if  it  should  be  so,  Africa  will  console  him. 
He  was  very  enthusiastic  about  that  scheme,  and 
Bontemps  assured  me  that  he  had  the  greatest  diffi- 
culty to  persuade  him  to  give  it  up,  for  the  present, 
at  any  rate.  However,  it  may  turn  out  I  have  acted 
for  the  best,  and  more  in  his  interest  than  in  my  own. 
I  hope  you  are  not  vexed  with  me  for  giving  you  this 
opportunity  of  doing  a  good  deed." 

"  No — but  for  the  future,  I  should  prefer  your  ask- 
ing my  consent  first.  At  present,  I  am  obliged  to  do 
something  which  I  do  not  want  to  do." 

After  Madame  de  Lene's  departure,  Christiane  sat 
for  a  long  time  with  her  eyes  fixed  on  her  looking- 
glass,  but  her  gaze  was  turned  inwards.  She  was 
thinking  over  what  she  had  just  heard.  She  felt  sure 
that  Jacques  had  thought  of  going  to  Africa  in  the 
hope  that  he  might  meet  with  a  death  that  would  be 
to  his  honour  out  there,  and  so  escape  from  the  petty 
worries  of  his  present  existence.  There  was  nothing 
surprising  in  all  that.  She  then  thought  of  the  Mar- 
chioness d'Anguilhon,  as  she  had  seen  her  on  Sunday 
in  church,  with  her  emaciated  face,  her  expressive 
eyes,  and  her  hands  clasped  together  in  prayer.     She 


88  AMERICAN  NOBILITY 

knew,  no  doubt,  of  her  son's  plan  and  she  was  pray- 
ing God  to  prevent  him  from  carrying  it  out.  An 
immense  pity  took  possession  of  Christiane's  soul,  and 
this  pity  conquered  her  repugnance  and  her  scruples. 
She,  too,  began  to  wish  for  this  marriage,  which  might 
be  the  means  of  saving  Jacques,  and  she  decided  that 
she  would  do  her  utmost  to  bring  it  about.  She  would 
give  him  opportunities  of  meeting  Miss  Villars  and 
she  would  praise  his  good  qualities  to  her  and  let  her 
see  how  much  she  herself  respected  him.  She  began 
to  think  that  Madame  de  Lene  was  quite  right  and 
that  he  would  be  very  likely  to  inspire  a  girl  with 
love  for  him.  And  then,  as  even  the  best  natures  have 
their  weak  points,  the  idea  amused  her  that  Annie 
might,  after  all,  fall  in  love  with  a  Frenchman  and 
marry  him,  in  spite  of  every  one  and  everything.  She 
revelled  beforehand,  in  a  mischievous  way,  at  the 
thought  of  the  conflict  of  sentiments  which  such  a 
marriage  would  cause,  and  the  idea  of  Clara's  anger 
positively  delighted  her. 

Christiane  lay  awake  most  of  the  night,  thinking 
over  this  romance  that  was  to  be  worked  out.  She 
studied  the  characters  of  those  who  were  to  take  part 
in  it,  elaborated  a  plan  of  action,  traced  out  her  own 
r61e,  and  the  following  day,  when  Jacques  appeared, 
she  said  to  him,  as  she  held  out  her  hand: 

"  I  will  help  you." 

"  Really ! "  he  exclaimed,  with  a  thrill  of  -joy  and 
hope.  "  Will  you  really  help  me?  Oh,  then,  it  means 
victory.    You  think  I  am  likely  to  succeed  ?  " 

"  Yes,  but  we  must  not  go  too  fast.  In  the  first 
place,  you  must  promise  to  obey  me  blindly." 

"  Blindly.  I  am  only  too  happy  that  you  consent 
to  guide  me." 


AMERICAN  NOBILITY  89 

"  People  always  say  that  and  then,  frequently,  only 
follow  the  advice  that  they  like.  I  have  a  great  deal 
of  self-respect,  as  you  know,  and,  as  I  am  interested 
myself  in  your  cause,  I  want  you  to  win.  You  must 
let  me  guide  you  in  everything." 

"  I  promise  faithfully  and,  all  the  more  so,  as  I 
have  already  had  one  experience,  with  a  certain  Miss 
Ellis.  My  affair  with  her  would  make  the  subject  of 
a  one-act  comedy,  which  might  be  entitled,  '  A  Mutual 
Misunderstanding. ' " 

"  Ah,  when  misunderstandings  take  place  with 
American  women,  nothing  more  can  be  done,  for  they 
are  very  sensitive  and  vindictive.  I  know  them  well 
enough  to  be  able  to  call  out :  '  Danger  I '  if  it  should 
be  necessary." 

"  What  did  you  mean,  yesterday,  when  you  said  that 
'  I  am  always  up  in  the  air  and  that  Miss  Villars  is 
very  much  down  here '  ?  " 

"  Ah,  I  see  that  my  words  have  been  running  in  your 
head,"  said  Christiane,  smiling.  "  I  do  not  quite  know 
how  to  express  what  I  mean.  The  ideal  is  above  and 
beyond  life,  heroism  is  beyond  courage,  fanaticism  is 
beyond  religion,  and  perversity  is  beyond  evil.  Well, 
as  a  rule,  for  there  are,  of  course,  exceptions,  American 
women  never  arrive  at  the  heyond.  They  are  within 
the  circle  that  limits  our  sphere  of  action,  that  borders 
on  the  ideal,  whilst  we  are  beyond  it.  If  they  heard 
me  saying  this,  they  would  protest  energetically,  and 
declare  that  they  have  more  culture  than  we  have. 
That  is  quite  possible  and  I  even  grant  that  it  is  so. 
And  yet,  a  little,  ignorant  European  girl,  brought  up 
within  the  walls  of  a  convent,  will  have  impulses  and 
transports  of  feeling  which  their  doctoresses  are  in- 
capable of  experiencing.     The  souls  of  our  European 


90  AMERICAN  NOBILITY 

girls  will  soar  to  heights,  and  penetrate  to  depths, 
which  the  others  could  never  reach  with  all  their 
science.  Take  Madame  de  Keradieu,  for  instance,  who 
has  lived  for  years  in  France.  She  is  much  more 
intelligent  and  better  informed  than  many  of  my 
acquaintances.  There  are  numbers  of  subjects,  never- 
theless, which  I  could  never  discuss  with  her.  When 
we  touch  on  the  domain  of  abstract  thought,  she  can- 
not follow,  and  this  considerably  limits  the  field  of 
conversation." 

"  And  so  you  think  that  the  *  beyond '  and  the  *  down 
here '  would  clash  ? "  asked  Jacques,  with  evident 
dread. 

"  Clash  ?  No.  Miss  Villars  has  some  excellent 
qualities.  You  might  be  happy  with  her,  if  you  were 
wise  enough  not  to  ask  her  for  more  than  she  can 
give." 

"  Well,  tell  me  frankly,  do  you  like  her  ?  " 

"  Yes,  otherwise  I  should  not  invite  her.  I  should 
think  her  delightful,  if  she  were  only  less  decided  in 
her  manner  and  if  she  were  not  quite  so  hard.  You 
see  it  is  the  inner  life  that  gives  softness  and  delicacy 
to  the  expression  of  the  face.  The  American  woman 
does  not  know  what  repose  means.  Her  face,  un- 
touched by  flashes  of  thought  or  reverie,  has  the  crude 
light  and  the  hard  outlines  of  those  beautiful  Southern 
landscapes,  the  atmosphere  of  which  is  crossed  by 
the  mistral.  In  a  word,  she  lacks  that  indefinable 
attraction  which  we  call  *  charm.'  Miss  Villars  is  no 
exception  to  the  rule." 

"Do  you  think  my  mother  would  like  her?"  asked 
Jacques,  somewhat  disconcerted  by  what  he  had  just 
heard. 

Christiane  reflected  for  a  few  seconds. 


AMERICAN  NOBILITY  91 

"  Yes,"  she  said,  at  last.  "  It  would  be  as  well  to 
warn  Madame  d'Anguilhon  that  American  girls  are 
not  timid,  naive  creatures.  In  fact,  they  are  not 
at  all  naive.  They  all  seem  to  me  like  married 
women." 

"Like  married  women?" 

"  Yes.  that  something  which  makes  of  the  real  girl, 
a  being  apart,  an  exquisite  creature,  is  lacking  in 
them.  By  their  look  of  assurance,  and  by  a  thousand 
other  signs,  one  guesses  that  they  are  aware  of  every- 
thing, and  Madame  de  Keradieu  tells  me  that  such  is 
the  case.  "^Tien  once  they  are  out,  the  initiated  ones 
speak  very  openly  before  them,  in  order  to  put  them 
on  their  guard,  probably.  Of  course,  as  they  are  given 
full  liberty,  it  is  as  well  to  open  their  eyes." 

"  And  does  Miss  Villars  seem  to  j^ou  like  a  married 
woman  ?  "  asked  Jacques,  with  such  a  scared  look  on 
his  face  that  the  Duchess  laughed. 

"  Yes,  she  does.  Do  not  let  that  disturb  your  mind, 
though.  If  she  is  not  naive,  Annie  Villars  is  very 
comme  il  faut." 

"Annie,"  repeated  the  Marquis,  "I  like  the  name; 
it  is  simple  and  has  a  soft  sound." 

"  Yes,  it  is  a  pretty  name,"  agreed  Madame  de 
Blanzac. 

"  And  what  sort  of  a  woman  is  the  mother?  " 

"  A  very  good  sort,  quite  inoffensive,  and  without  a 
shadow  of  authority.  You  have  nothing  to  fear  there. 
Beware  of  the  cousin,  though.  She  will  be  the  enemy 
and  a  very  wily  one  too.  If  she  had  the  slightest  idea 
of  your  intentions,  she  would  be  capable  of  hastening 
their  departure  for  England.  The  two  cousins  want 
to  be  there  for  the  London  season.  You  have  just 
six  weeks  for  the  conquest  of  the  young  person." 


92  AMERICAN  NOBILITY 

"  Not  very  long." 

"  Quite  enough,  for  if  she  does  not  care  for  you 
at  once,  she  will  never  care  for  you." 

"  Ah,  love  at  first  sight  would  be  too  much  to 
expect." 

"  Love  at  first  sight  is  not  necessary,  but  you  must 
make  a  good  impression  on  her  the  first  time  she  sees 
you.  If  you  do  not,  you  will  fare  like  the  Duke  de 
Randan.  He  is  just  as  far  advanced  now,  as  the  first 
day  he  met  her." 

"  By  the  way,  does  she  speak  French  ?  " 

"  With  a  slight  accent,  but  fluently." 

"  Heaven  be  praised.  It  would  be  terrible  to  have 
to  make  love  in  English." 

"  It  is  certainly  better  to  fight  with  one's  own  weap- 
ons, and  on  one's  own  ground.  Now,  listen  to  my 
instructions." 

"  I  am  all  ears." 

"  You  are  coming  to  dinner  to-morrow ;  that  is  under- 
stood. You  will  take  the  Viscountess  de  Fresne  in; 
she  is  very  entertaining  and  likes  to  monopolise  her 
companion.  You  must  allow  yourself  to  be  enter- 
tained and  monopolised.  Miss  Villars  will  be  on  the 
other  side  of  the  table,  but  a  little  higher  up,  so  that 
if  she  should  be  tempted  to  look  at  you,  she  will  have 
to  turn  her  head  slightly.  After  dinner,  we  shall  have 
music  and  songs  and  then  an  orchestra  and  dancing 
until  supper-time.  You  must  keep  to  the  French  group 
and  you  must  not  ask  Miss  "Villars  to  dance  with  you. 
If  the  Keradleus  want  to  introduce  you  to  her,  try  to 
find  some  excuse  for  postponing  the  introduction.  She 
will  probably  be  surrounded  with  admirers,  so  that 
your  indifference  will  attract  her  attention,  even  if 
your  own  personality  has  not  already  done  so.    That 


AMERICAN  NOBILITY  93 

is  very  improbable,  though,"  added  the  Duchess,  with 
a  mocking  smile. 

"  Quite  improbable,"  repeated  Jacques,  imper- 
turbably. 

"  When  you  do  make  her  acquaintance,  do  not  pay 
her  any  special  attention,  and  no  compliments,  remem- 
ber. Behave  just  as  though  you  were  with  a  French 
girl.  I  have  noticed  that  American  girls  are  always 
flattered  by  that.  Take  rather  an  authoritative  tone 
when  you  are  talking  to  her.  You  might,  in  fact, 
simply  be  yourself  then,  as  your  own  character  will 
serve  you  admirably.  As  you  already  like  her,  there 
is  no  need  to  pretend,  and  there  is  a  great  force  in 
sincerity.  Do  not  be  in  any  hurry,  as  that  would 
spoil  everything.  Keep  me  very  well  posted  and  T  will 
observe  Miss  Villars  and  question  Madame  de  Keradieu 
in  such  a  way  that  she  will  suspect  nothing.  I  shall 
then  be  better  able  to  guide  you." 

"  What  a  clever  politician  you  are,"  said  Jacques, 
looking  at  Christiane,  admiringly. 

"  Yes,  I  always  envied  the  women  of  the  Fronde. 
A  good  conspiracy  would  have  suited  me." 

"  And  been  more  interesting  than  the  marriage  of  a 
poverty-stricken  man." 

"  Not  when  the  poverty-stricken  man  is  a  friend  of 
my  childhood,  and  when  it  is  a  question  of  preventing 
him  from  going  out  to  get  himself  killed  in  Africa." 

"  How  did  you  know  I  was  going  to  Africa?  "  asked 
Jtcques,  flushing  to  the  roots  of  his  hair. 

"  No  matter  how,  but  I  do  know.  The  only  son  of 
a  widow  has  no  right  to  take  his  life  into  his  own 
hands  like  that,  Monsieur  d'Anguilhon,"  added  the 
Duchess,  in  a  severe  tone. 

"  Unless  he  is  of  no  use." 


94  AMERICAN  NOBILITY 

"  Of  no  use?  Your  presence  is  much  more  neces- 
sary to  your  mother  than  luxury  and  even  comfort. 
In  your  case,  there  would  be  more  heroism  in  staying 
at  home  and  putting  up  with  limited  means  than  in 
going  out  to  brave  death  in  Africa." 

"  Perhaps  so,  but  such  heroism  as  that  is  beyond 
my  strength." 

"  Men  are  only  capable  of  the  sacrifices  that  are  the 
most  painful  ones  to  other  people.  That  is  a  well- 
known  fact.  I  hope  there  will  be  no  need  for  you  to 
do  the  bad  thing  you  were  intending  to  do  and  that 
you  will  marry  Miss  Villars.  We  must  have  a  grand 
wedding  at  St.  Clotilde's." 

"  So  be  it,"  said  Jacques,  gaily.  "  If  it  is  to  be,  it 
will  be,  and  if  not,  I  shall  only  feel  a  trifle  ashamed." 

"  Are  you  a  fatalist?  " 

"  An  absolute  fatalist." 

"Then  what  are  you  and  I  doing  now?" 

"  We  are  doing  just  what  is  necessary  for  the  success 
or  failure  of  this  affair." 

"  So,  according  to  you,  it  would  have  been  impossible 
for  me  to  have  refused  to  help  j'ou?  " 

"  Impossible,  since  you  did  not  refuse." 

"Then  I  have  no  responsibility?" 

"  None." 

"  And  no  merit  then,  either?  " 

"  The  merit  of  being  a  good  and  beneficent  instru- 
ment, just  as  the  rose  has  the  merit  of  being  a  beauti- 
ful, sweet-scented  flower.  Our  brains  are  nothing  but 
phonographs,  upon  which  our  respective  rdles  are  in- 
scribed. We  live  out  these  r61es,  and  that  is  what 
gives  us  tlie  illusion  of  free-will.  If  this  were  not  so, 
we  should  govern  the  world,  whereas  we  are  governed 
ourselves.     It  is  impossible  to  doubt  that." 


AMERICAN  NOBILITY  96 

"  Oh,  please  do  not  talk  like  that,"  exclaimed 
Christiane,  "you  are  upsetting  everything — every- 
thing. Who  would  have  imagined  that  you  ever 
thought  of  such  questions?" 

"  Circumstances  have  obliged  me  to  think." 

"  Well,  T  must  say  that  I  cannot  congratulate  you 
on  the  result  of  your  meditations.  I  hope  you  have 
not  talked  to  your  mother  like  this?  " 

"  Heaven  forbid !  I  would  not  say  a  word  to  her 
that  might  shake  her  faith." 

"  Why  are  you  not  as  scrupulous  about  shaking 
mine?" 

"Yours?"  said  Jacques,  looking  into  Christiane's 
eyes.  "  Yours  ?  "  he  repeated ;  "  I  do  not  think  you 
have  any." 

The  Duchess  lowered  her  eyelids  with  the  long 
lashes  promptly. 

"  You  are  too  young  to  be  my  father  confessor,"  she 
said  laughing.  "Let  us  leave  philosophy  alone.  Go 
and  think  about  Miss  Villars  and  how  you  are  to  win 
her.  You  must  succeed,  for  the  sake  of  the  honour 
of  the  Old  World." 

«  I  will  try." 

Madame  de  Blanzac  watched  the  Marquis  as  he 
went  away  and  a  smile  played  over  her  lips. 

"  We  shall  see,"  she  said  to  herself,  "  whether  our 
little  Yankee  will  prove  as  refractory  as  she  believes 
herself  to  be ! " 


CHAPTER  VIII 

New  York,  Boston,  and  Philadelphia  are  nearer  to 
Paris  than  most  of  the  provincial  towns  of  France. 
Like  most  Americans,  Annie  Villars  and  her  cousin 
knew  the  names  of  French  savants,  literary  men,  and 
artists  and  they  were  soon  well  up  in  what  was  going 
on  in  Paris.  Madame  de  Keradieu  took  them  to  the 
various  picture  exhibitions,  charity  bazaars,  import- 
ant weddings,  and  also  to  the  Opera  and  the  Bois, 
and  she  always  pointed  out  any  noted  persons  to  them. 

Annie  and  Clara  had,  of  course,  begged  to  be  taken 
to  the  smaller  theatres  and  to  the  little  restaurants 
to  supper,  but  Madame  de  Keradieu  assured  them  that 
her  husband  would  never  consent  to  escort  them  there. 

The  American  woman  is  a  sufficiently  good  repub- 
lican not  to  wish  for  royalty  in  her  own  country,  but 
she  is  delighted  that  it  exists  in  Europe,  and  she  will 
go  to  any  trouble  to  obtain  the  privilege  of  being 
allowed  to  make  her  curtsy  to  it. 

In  the  same  way,  she  is  virtuous  enough  not  to 
wish  to  meet  with  the  devil  when  she  is  at  home,  but 
she  is  charmed  to  meet  him  elsewhere.  When  she  is 
in  Paris,  she  never  fails  to  go  in  search  of  him;  in 
the  first  place  just  to  see  what  he  is  like,  but  more 
particularly  in  order  to  be  able  to  say  that  she  has 
seen  him — and  she  never  finds  him  as  black  as  she 

96 


AMERICAN  NOBILITY  97 

had  hoped.  She  buys  the  most  daring  of  novels  and 
she  likes  to  go  to  the  most  risky  of  plays,  and  it 
usually  happens  that  she  neither  understands  the  novel 
nor  the  play. 

When  at  the  theatre,  or  driving  in  the  Bois,  she 
always  likes  to  have  the  celebrities  of  the  demi-monde 
pointed  out,  and  she  examines  them  with  the  keenest 
curiosity,  because  they  are  "  wicked,"  but  she  does  not 
realise  all  the  ignominy  of  their  lives.  All  such  things 
would  leave  their  trace  for  ever  on  the  soul  of  a 
French  girl,  but  they  merely  amuse  an  American  girl. 
She  is  not  sensual  and  she  is  as  incapable  of  com- 
prehending depravity  as  she  is  of  comprehending 
holiness. 

Annie  Villars  and  her  cousin  had  no  reason  to 
regret  having  followed  Madame  de  Keradieu's  advice, 
for  their  season  in  Paris  was  most  enjoyable.  Their 
relationship  with  the  Baroness  and  their  own  person- 
ality gave  them  a  certain  position  at  once.  At  after- 
noon receptions,  they  were  very  much  admired,  so  that 
the  card  basket  in  their  drawing-room  already  con- 
tained a  number  of  cards,  bearing  aristocratic  names, 
and,  curiously  enough,  these  little  pieces  of  cardboard 
had  more  effect  on  Annie  than  the  individuals  they 
represented.  She  would  look  at  them  and  handle  them 
with  a  certain  pleasure.  The  words  Prince  de  Nolles 
and  Duke  de  Randan  seemed  to  mean  more  than  such 
names  as  Mr.  Jones  or  Mr.  Smith.  She  was  rather 
ashamed  that  she  should  have  this  impression  and  she 
would  not,  on  any  account,  have  owned  to  it  to  her 
cousin. 

The  amount  of  her  dowry  had,  of  course,  excited 
certain  ambitious  families.  Madame  de  Keradieu  had 
taken  the  precaution  to  let  every  one  know  that  Annie 


08  AMERICAN  NOBILITY 

did  not  intend  to  marry  in  Europe,  and  that  she  was 
by  no  means  anxious  to  have  a  title.  Several  young 
men  had,  nevertheless,  obtained  an  introduction  and, 
in  accordance  with  French  manners  and  customs,  they 
had  requested  their  family  or  friends  to  work  for  them. 

Duke  Albert  de  Randan  was  openly  posing  as  a 
suitor.  He  was  a  good-looking  young  man  of  twenty- 
seven  years  of  age,  with  an  old  name  and  a  certain 
fortune.  He  thought  that,  with  these  advantages,  he 
would  easily  win  the  American  girl.  His  attentions 
and  his  proposal  flattered  Annie's  vanity,  but  he  made 
no  impression  whatever  on  her.  The  Faubourg  St. 
Germain  society  excited  her  curiosity  just  as  Japanese 
or  Chinese  society  would  have  done.  She  studied  the 
women's  dresses,  their  way  of  receiving,  and  the  ar- 
rangement of  their  drawing-rooms.  All  that  amused 
her,  but  she  felt  that  there  was  nothing  in  common 
between  her  and  the  people  she  met.  She  was  abso- 
lutely nonplussed  by  the  girls  and  she  never  managed 
to  carry  on  a  conversation  with  them.  She  finally 
came  to  the  conclusion  that  vanity  alone  could  make 
American  women  anxious  to  enter  into  this  world,  as 
it  was  by  no  means  amusing  and  there  was  nothing 
which  could  appeal  to  them,  as  their  tastes  and  their 
education  were  so  totally  different. 

Baron  de  Keradieu's  friends  were  most  friendly  with 
the  two  girls  and  Viscount  Guy  de  Nozay  had  promptly 
discovered  Annie's  natural  wit. 

Guy  was  of  small  stature  and  very  plain,  but  his 
very  plainness  was  of  that  kind  which  is  singularly 
attractive.  He  was  extremely  original  and  had  a  vein 
of  humour,  which  caused  him  to  be  held  in  awe.  His 
keen  eyes  saw  everything,  so  that  only  those  who  had 
nothing  to  hide  could   be   at  ease   in   his   presence. 


AMERICAN  NOBILITY  99 

Annie's  naturalness  and  sincerity  had  immediately 
charmed  him  and  her  remarks  amused  him.  He  de- 
lighted in  attacking  her  American  ideas  and  she 
defended  them  courageously.  This  little  warfare,  car- 
ried on  with  the  most  perfect  courtesy  and  in  a  witty 
manner,  amused  Annie.  Baron  de  Keradieu  and 
Viscount  de  Nozay  were  the  only  two  Frenchmen  she 
cared  for  so  far. 

As  a  matter  of  fact,  the  important  persons  of  the 
Faubourg  St.  Germain  had  caused  her  keen  disap- 
pointment, a  disappointment  which  is  shared  by  most 
American  women. 

The  Duchess  de  Blanzac  was  the  only  woman  who 
had  excited  her  admiration. 

"  She  is  a  perfect  queen,"  Annie  had  said,  the  first 
time  she  met  her.  There  was  something  extraordinary 
about  her,  something  which  Annie  had  never  met  with 
in  any  other  woman,  and  she  could  not  take  her  eyes 
from  her.  She  was  extremely  flattered  by  any  at- 
tention shown  to  her  by  Christiane  de  Blanzac.  Clara 
did  not  share  her  enthusiasm.  She  declared  that  the 
Duchess  was  not  really  as  good  as  she  seemed  and 
that  it  would  not  do  to  have  too  much  faith  in  her. 
The  two  cousins  had  several  slight  quarrels  on  this 
subject. 

Annie  was  delighted  when  she  received  an  invitation 
to  a  grand  dinner  to  be  given  by  the  Duchess,  followed 
by  a  soiree.  She  was  glad  of  this  opportunity  of 
seeing  how  people  of  the  highest  rank  entertained. 

She  took  a  great  deal  of  trouble  about  her  dress, 
as  she  wanted  to  be  at  her  best.  When  the  great  day 
arrived,  she  was  quite  feverish  with  excitement,  more 
excited  than  she  had  ever  been  under  any  circumstance 
in  her  life. 


100  AMERICAN  NOBILITY 

She  wore  a  dress  of  very  pale  pink  silk,  made 
exquisitely  and  cut  low  in  a  most  artistic  manner. 
Her  necklace  was  composed  of  seven  rows  of  wonder- 
ful little  pearls  caught  together  with  tiny  bars  set 
with  diamonds. 

"I  have  never  seen  you  look  as  beautiful,  Miss 
Annie,"  exclaimed  Catherine,  in  delight.  "  I  am  quite 
certain  that  your  Duchess  will  not  have  any  one 
prettier  and  better  dressed  in  her  room  to-night." 

"  You  dear  old  goose,"  said  Annie,  laughing  and 
kissing  her  old  nurse,  as  she  always  did  on  days  when 
she  felt  she  had  been  very  exacting.  "  Other  people 
will  not  see  me  through  your  eyes,  unfortunately." 

"  God  bless  you,"  said  Catherine,  putting  the  finish- 
ing touches  to  her  young  mistress's  toilette. 

Mrs.  Villars  had  also  been  invited,  in  the  most  cor- 
rect manner  possible,  but  she  had  excused  herself  and 
had  asked  Madame  de  Keradieu  to  chaperon  the  two 
girls.  As  she  was  dining  out,  she  drove  first  to  the  Rue 
Vaneau  with  Clara  and  Annie. 

"  I  hope  you  will  enjoy  yourselves,"  she  said,  gaily, 
as  she  left  them. 

As  the  Keradieus'  carriage  was  stopped  several  times 
by  a  block  in  the  traffic,  they  were  the  last  of  the 
dinner  guests  to  arrive  at  the  Duchess  de  Blanzac's. 
On  entering  the  brilliantly  lighted  house,  Annie  was 
seized  with  a  fit  of  nervous  shyness.  She  felt  a  flood 
of  light  over  her  and  saw,  in  a  confused  way,  red  and 
gold  liveries,  plants,  flowers,  a  suite  of  magnificent 
rooms  and,  in  the  furthest  one,  light  dresses,  white 
shirt  fronts,  and  black  coats.  All  eyes  were  turned 
towards  her  during  the  ceremony  of  the  introductions 
and  this  confused  her  still  more,  so  that  she  did  not 
catch  a  single  name  nor  distinguish  a  single  face. 


AMERICAN  NOBILITY  101 

The  Viscount  de  Nozay  took  her  in  to  dinner  and 
when  once  she  was  seated  at  table,  between  him  and 
Monsieur  de  Keradieu,  she  came  to  herself  again. 

Jacques,  too,  was  by  no  means  tranquil  in  his  mind. 
He  was,  apparently,  paying  great  attention  to  the 
Viscountess  de  Fresne,  but,  in  reality,  not  a  single 
movement  or  expression  of  the  young  American  girl 
escaped  him.  He  saw  her  reply  by  a  smile  to  a  little 
friendly  sign  from  the  Duchess  de  Blanzac.  He  then 
watched  her  as  she  glanced  round  the  table.  When 
her  eyes  were  fixed  on  him,  he  noticed  that  an  ex- 
pression of  surprise  came  to  her  face.  His  heart 
began  to  beat  more  quickly  and  presently  he  felt  that 
Annie's  eyes  were  fixed  on  him  again.  It  seemed  as 
though  she  were  unconsciously  attracted,  for  several 
times  during  dinner  he  saw  that  she  was  watching 
him. 

Jacques  was  sure  that,  for  some  reason  or  another, 
he  had  excited  the  girl's  curiosity,  for  it  certainly  was 
curiosity  that  he  read  on  her  face.  He  was  very  much 
delighted  and  this  delight  was  reflected  in  his  eyes. 

He  began  to  examine  Annie  more  carefully  and  he 
was  charmed  by  her  girlishness  and  the  good-natured 
expression  of  her  face.  He  thought  her  very  comme 
il  faut  and  the  only  fault  he  had  to  find  was  that  she 
was  not  dressed  quite  simply  enough  for  a  young  girl. 
The  rings  she  was  wearing  rather  horrified  him.  She 
had  a  turquoise  on  her  little  finger  and  a  black  pearl 
ring  and  a  diamond  one  on  the  third  finger.  The 
sparkling  of  all  these  stones  during  dinner  had  rather 
the  effect  on  him  of  a  false  note. 

"  She  might  be  a  married  woman,"  he  said  to 
himself. 

He  then  thought  of  her  immense  fortune  and  could 


102  AMERICAN  NOBILITY 

not  help  glancing  again  at  the  privileged  creature 
whom  Providence  had  so  greatly  favoured. 

Although  Annie  had  been  rather  perplexed  by  the 
Marquis  d'Anguilhon  and  had  looked  at  him  several 
times,  this  had  not  prevented  her  from  taking  note 
of  all  that  she  saw.  This  French  dinner  interested 
her  immensely. 

Dinners  are  the  special  triumphs  of  American 
women.  They  vie  with  each  other  in  inventing  fresh 
things  with  which  to  surprise  or  amaze  their  guests, 
and,  as  a  result  of  their  various  inventions,  they  have 
arrived  at  a  luxury  of  which  we  have  no  idea,  a  luxury 
that  is,  perhaps,  more  remarkable  than  refined.  In 
order  to  judge  of  American  plutocracy,  one  must  have 
been  present  at  some  of  these  feasts  given  by  their 
millionaires.  They  are  veritable  orgies  of  light  and 
colour.  Bilk  cloths,  sometimes  even  with  gold  fringes, 
the  table  strewn  with  rare  flowers  and  dinner  services 
of  silver,  delicate  china,  and  cut  glass.  A  profusion 
of  the  most  carefully  thought  out  dishes  and  the  most 
extjuisite  fruits  in  the  world.  Then  women  who  are 
pretty  and  remarkable  looking,  not  elegant  in  them- 
selves but  dressed  by  the  first  houses,  women  who  are 
perhaps  wearing  in  their  hair,  or  on  their  neck  and 
arms,  the  gems  of  princely  crowns  or  the  jewels  of 
queens  now  in  exile.  Added  to  all  this,  the  most 
exuberant  gaiety,  which  is  kept  up  by  abundant 
champagne  and  wine  served  indiscriminately. 

Accustomed  to  magnificence  of  this  kind,  Annie  was 
at  first  surprised,  and  a  trifle  disappointed,  by  the 
comparative  simplicity  of  this  dinner. 

The  dining-room,  with  its  fine  proportions,  its  ceil- 
ing, and  its  oak  panelled  walls,  formed  a  somewhat 
severe  and  sombre  background,  against  which  the  table 


AMERICAN  NOBILITY  103 

and  the  guests  stood  out  in  relief.  The  beautiful 
Flemish  table-linen,  the  candelabras  with  their  candles, 
the  Louis  XVI.  centre-piece  with  its  mirrors  framed 
in  silver  holding  a  large  basket,  the  admirably  chased 
vases  filled  with  roses  of  delicate  colours,  the  dishes 
all  prepared  and  served  up  artistically,  the  women 
with  their  quiet  elegance,  the  animated  conversation 
carried  on  in  a  distinctly  well-bred  way,  all  this  made 
an  ensemble,  pleasing  alike  to  the  eye  and  to  the  ear, 
for  all  was  so  delightfully  harmonious.  Annie  Villars 
did  not  fail  to  experience  a  sort  of  well  being,  a 
delectation.  She  felt  that  it  was  all  very  beautiful 
and  very  good,  better  than  anything  she  had  seen 
hitherto. 

After  dinner,  Madame  de  Keradieu  talked  to  Jacques 
for  a  few  minutes  and,  when  she  joined  Annie  a  few 
minutes  later,  the  young  girl  asked  her  to  whom  she 
had  been  speaking. 

"  I  do  not  remember  his  name,  but  I  am  quite  sure 
I  have  met  him  somewhere,"  said  Annie. 

"  Yes,  and  I  have,  too,"  added  Clara. 

"  Impossible,"  said  Madame  de  Keradieu,  "  for  he  has 
only  just  returned  from  Algeria  and  has  not  yet  been 
to  see  us.  He  is  a  friend  of  Henri's,  the  Marquis 
d'Anguilhon." 

"  Ah,  that 's  it,"  exclaimed  Annie.  "  He  is  so  ex- 
actly like  a  portrait,  a  copy  of  Van  Dyck's,  that  we 
saw  at  Versailles.  It  is  Joyeuse,  Marquis  d'Anguilhon, 
Seigneur  de  Blonay.     Do  you  not  remember  it,  Clara?  " 

"  Yes,  quite  well.  And  you  are  right,  too,"  she  added, 
looking  at  Jacques,  who  was  standing  just  under  a 
brilliant  light.    "  He  is  exactly  like  the  portrait." 

"  The  portrait  is,  no  doubt,  one  of  Jacques'  an- 
cestors," said  the  Viscount  de  Nozay. 


104  AMERICAN  NOBILITY 

"  Henri  is  the  living  picture  of  a  Keradieu  who  died 
about  a  hundred  and  fifty  years  ago,"  put  in  the 
Baroness. 

"  Yes,  there  are  still  a  few  authentic  aristocrats," 
said  Guy  in  a  bantering  tone,  "  in  spite  of  what  Miss 
May  believes." 

"  But  I  never  doubted  that,"  answered  Clara, 
laughing. 

"No,  really?    Well,  so  much  the  better." 

Annie  examined  Jacques  more  carefully. 

"  How  curious  it  is  though,"  she  said,  "  to  see  a 
living  person  with  exactly  the  same  features  and  ex- 
pression as  a  portrait  painted  two  hundred  years  ago. 
What  a  pity  that  the  Marquis  d'Anguilhon  has  not 
a  pointed  beard  and  is  not  wearing  a  ruffle  and  a 
doublet." 

"  Well,  we  must  call  d'Anguilhon  here  and  request 
him  to  array  himself  as  a  Seigneur  of  Blonay  for  the 
next  costume  ball." 

"  Oh,  please  do  not,"  said  Annie,  colouring.  "  You 
would  make  me  appear  ridiculous.  I  am  not  at  all 
anxious  to  see  him  like  that,  either,"  she  added  drily. 

Annie  and  her  cousin  thoroughly  enjoyed  the  even- 
ing. The  young  men  they  met  were  extremely  atten- 
tive. Every  one  said  very  pleasant  things  to  them,  so 
that  they  experienced,  the  whole  time,  the  delightful 
sensation  which  success  gives. 

There  is  nothing  more  fascinating  than  a  resem- 
blance and  Annie  could  not  help  looking  at  Jacques, 
because  he  had  the  straight  nose  and  the  eyes  and 
smile  of  that  portrait,  copied  from  one  of  Van  Dyck's, 
which  had  so  charmed  her  that  she  had  underlined  it 
in  her  Baedeker. 

She  was  longing  to  dance  with  the  descendant  of 


AMERICAN  NOBILITY  105 

the  "  Seigneur  of  Blonay."  It  would  have  been  very 
exciting  and  she  would  have  enjoyed  telling  about  it 
afterwards,  but  Jacques,  in  obedience  to  the  instruc- 
tions he  had  received  from  the  Duchess  de  Blanzac, 
did  not  approach  her  and  the  disappointment  she  felt 
somewhat  spoiled  the  evening  for  her. 

The  following  day,  on  writing  down  in  her  diary 
the  principal  features  of  the  evening's  entertainment, 
she  finished  with  the  words :    "  Saw  a  live  Marquis." 


CHAPTER  IX 

At  the  Galerie  Georges  Petit,  Rue  de  S6ze,  a  sale 
was  going  on  for  the  benefit  of  Waifs  and  Strays. 
There  were  stalls  very  tastefully  arranged,  elegant 
women  in  their  light  spring  dresses,  a  most  har- 
monious blending  of  colour,  lively  chattering,  and 
plenty  of  grace  and  coquetry,  all,  in  fact,  that  goes 
to  make  up  a  Charity  Bazaar. 

At  the  end  of  the  room  was  a  sign  with  the  name 
"  Colombin  "  in  huge  letters  and  under  this  was  a  long 
table  beautifully  decorated  with  flowers.  On  the  table 
were  samovars,  bottles  of  wine,  bowls  of  punch,  pyra- 
mids of  cakes,  sandwiches,  fruit,  etc.  To  the  right  and 
left  a  few  small  tables  had  been  arranged  after  the 
fashion  of  the  real  Colombin  the  famous  confectioner 
of  the  Rue  Cambon.  This  buffet  had  been  organised 
and  provided  by  Madame  de  Keradieu,  Miss  Villars, 
and  Miss  May.  All  three  of  them  were  selling  and 
serving,  as  though  they  had  never  done  anything  else 
but  this  in  their  lives. 

Towards  four  o'clock,  the  Marquis  d'Anguilhon  and 
the  Viscount  de  Nozay  arrived.  On  seeing  the  Van 
Dyck,  as  Clara  had  surnamed  Jacques,  Annie  was 
delighted. 

Madame  de  Keradieu  presented  both  of  the  young 
men  with  a  buttonhole  of  corn-flowers,  such  as  she  was 
wearing  herself. 

io6 


AMERICAN  NOBILITY  107 

"  Put  these  in  your  coats,"  she  said.  "  I  will  engage 
you  both  as  waiters.  We  shall  have  crowds  of  people 
here  soon  and  we  cannot  do  all  the  work  ourselves." 

"  That  is  what  I  call  taking  a  mean  advantage,"  said 
Jacques,  putting  the  flowers  in  his  buttonhole. 

"  Are  you  complaining  ?  " 

"Not  at  all,  I  am  only  too  delighted  to  be  able  to 
do  anything  for  you.  The  only  thing  is,  I  am  terribly 
awkward.  At  any  rate,  I  will  pay  beforehand  for  what 
T  break,"  and  the  Marquis  put  a  twenty-franc  piece 
into  the  little  basket  which  served  as  cash-box. 

"  A  brilliant  idea,"  said  Guy,  following  his  friend's 
example.  "  You  know  how  awkward  I  am,"  he  added. 
"  Do  not  give  me  anything  fragile  or  valuable  to 
handle.     It  will  be  at  your  own  risk." 

"  We  are  to  reserve  a  table  for  Madame  de  Blanzac," 
said  the  Marquis. 

"  Yes,  she  is  coming  to  *  five  o'clocker '  here,"  added 
Guy. 

"  To  *  five  o'clocker ' !  "  repeated  Madame  de  Kera- 
dieu,  laughing.     "  Oh,  Monsieur  de  Nozay ! " 

"  Well,  as  people  will  call  tea  the  *  five  o'clock,* 
instead  of  using  our  nice  French  word  gouter,  there 
is  nothing  for  it  but  to  make  a  verb.  I  five  o'clock, 
you  five  o'clock,  he  five  o'clocks,  etc.  I  cannot  think 
why  we  should  let  ourselves  be  Americanised  in  this 
way." 

"  You  might  do  worse,"  said  Clara,  sharply. 

"  Oh,  no  discussions  now,  please,"  begged  Madame 
de  Keradieu.  "  Now,  waiters,  to  work  and  try  not  to 
be  too  clumsy." 

"  We  will  try,"  answered  the  two  young  men  to- 
gether. They  at  once  went  to  their  place  at  the  buffet 
and  began  to  pass  the  cups  and  cakes  as  instructed. 


108  AMERICAN  NOBILITY 

It  was  the  Duchess  de  Blanzac  who  had  suggested  to 
Madame  de  Keradieu  the  idea  of  letting  the  Marquis 
help  at  the  buffet,  by  way  of  keeping  him  out  of  the 
way  of  the  solicitations  of  the  otlier  stall-holders. 

The  Duke  de  Randan,  thinking  that  this  would  be 
a  good  opportunity  for  him,  asked  permission  to  help 
Jacques  and  Guy  at  the  buffet.  He  was  extremely 
attentive  to  Annie  and  waited  on  her  very  ostensibly. 
His  behaviour  irritated  Jacques,  for  now  he  was  in- 
terested in  this  girl  himself,  he  did  not  care  to  have 
any  one  else  paying  attention  to  her.  He  did  not 
attempt  to  compete  with  the  Duke  though.  He  talked 
to  Madame  de  Keradieu,  to  the  various  women  he 
knew,  and  scarcely  addressed  a  word  to  Miss  Villars. 

Annie  was  still  fascinated  by  his  resemblance  to  the 
Versailles  portrait  and  she  could  not  help  watching 
him.  Every  time  that  he  spoke  to  her,  or  that  she 
met  his  golden  brown  eyes,  she  had  a  little  inward 
shock. 

Between  four  and  five  the  buffet  was  literally  be- 
sieged. All  the  habitudes  of  the  real  Colombin's, 
American  women,  Jewesses,  and  other  rich  foreigners 
arrived  one  after  another.  They  soon  found  out  the 
names  of  the  young  men  who  were  helping  at  the 
buffet  and  it  seemed  as  though  the  pleasure  of  being 
waited  on  by  a  Duke,  a  Marquis,  and  a  Viscount  in- 
creased their  appetite  considerably.  They  consumed 
an  alarming  quantity  of  cakes  and  the  receipts  were 
most  satisfactory. 

According  to  her  promise,  Christiane  came  to  the 
Bazaar.  She  went  to  various  stalls  and  made  pur- 
chases, talked  with  her  friends,  and,  when  the  crowd 
was  less  formidable  at  the  buffet,  she  arrived  in  her 
turn. 


AMERICAN  NOBILITY  109 

"  Well,  are  you  doing  good  business?  "  she  asked. 

"  We  are  coining  money,"  answered  Madame  de 
Keradieu.  "  We  have  almost  come  to  the  end  of  our 
stores  and  of  our  strength." 

"  I  will  invite  you  all  to  tea,  by  way  of  refreshing 
you.  Monsieur  de  Keradieu  can  find  some  people  to 
take  your  places." 

A  few  minutes  later,  the  Duchess  was  seated  at  a 
samovar  and,  at  her  invitation,  the  bufifet  "  attend- 
ants "  sat  down  with  her  at  her  table. 

Madame  de  Keradieu  thanked  the  young  men  for 
their  help. 

"  You  have  had  great  success,"  she  said.  "  We 
should  soon  make  our  fortune,  with  waiters  like  you." 

"  And  we  have  neither  broken  anything,  nor  upset 
anything,"  said  Guy.  "  We  managed  very  well,  on  the 
whole,  although  we  are  not  accustomed  to  this  sort  of 
thing.     Do  you  not  agree  with  me,  Miss  May?" 

"  Yes,  but  it  is  very  evident  that  you  are  not  accus- 
tomed to  it,"  answered  Clara,  laughing  as  she  thought 
of  the  various  mistakes  and  blunders  they  had  made. 

"  Yes,  you  certainly  need  to  spend  one  or  two  sea- 
sons in  New  York,  to  get  used  to  waiting  on  women," 
put  in  Monsieur  de  Keradieu.  "  You  see,"  he  con- 
tinued, putting  on  a  mock-serious  tone,  "  there  is  no 
place  like  America  for  masculine  education.  It  is  a 
school  for  chivalry,  modern  chivalry,  I  mean,  of  course. 
Young  men  are  not  required  to  go  and  fight  infidels 
or  even  to  win  the  Holy  Grail,  but  they  are  made  into 
excellent  knights.  They  have  to  carry  jackets  and 
sunshades  about,  do  all  kinds  of  errands,  and  ruin 
themselves  in  sweets  and  flowers.  At  a  ball,  for  in- 
stance, they  may  fan  their  partner,  hold  her  cham- 
pagne glass,  or  her  plate,  and  she  will  drink  in  the 


110  AMERICAN  NOBILITY 

most  leisurely  way,  and  eat  little  morsels  daintily 
with  her  fork.  All  that  is  very  pretty  exercise.  I 
have  often  watched  it." 

Jacques  raised  his  eyebrows  with  an  expression  of 
surprise. 

"  You  are  joking,"  he  said. 

"  Not  at  all.  American  men  accomplish  such  big 
feats  that  they  can  very  well  stoop  to  petty  tasks 
without  seeming  ridiculous." 

"  Good,  you  are  just,  at  any  rate,"  said  his  wife. 
"  I  am  sure,  though,"  she  continued  mischievously, 
"  that  Monsieur  d'Anguilhon  would  understand  womeu 
rendering  those  little  services  to  men,  rather  than  the 
other  way  round." 

"  Certainly,  I  should,"  replied  Jacques,  in  a  decided 
tone. 

Annie  drew  her  lips  together  and  Clara  glanced  at 
the  Marquis  indignantly. 

"  What  do  you  think  of  that  way  of  looking  at 
things.  Miss  Villars  ?  "  asked  the  Duchess  de  Blanzac. 

"What  do  I  think  of  it?  Oh,  it  does  not  concern 
me.     It  could  only  affect  a  Frenchwoman." 

"  A  Frenchwoman  ?  But  she  would  think  it  ridicu- 
lous for  a  man  to  become  her  servant.  If  a  man's 
prestige  is  to  be  lowered,  there  is  not  so  much  honour 
and  pleasure  in  winning  him." 

"  Exactly,"  put  in  Jacques. 

"  Then  too,"  said  the  Duke  de  Randan,  "  by  fanning 
a  woman  at  a  ball  and  holding  her  plate  and  glass, 
a  man  would  be  proclaiming  his  rights  over  her  and 
that  would  be  bad  taste." 

"  Rights?  Oh,  my  poor  friends,  you  are  behind  the 
times.  Let  me  tell  you,"  continued  the  Baron,  "  that 
in   the   United   States,  the  man  has   no  rights.      No 


AMERICAN  NOBILITY  111 

rights  whatever,"  he  repeated,  glancing  mischievously 
at  Clara.  "  He  asks  for  nothing.  The  principle  of 
American  women  is  to  receive  everything,  to  exact 
everything,  and  to  give  nothing.  Oh,  they  are  very 
clever,  I  can  tell  you." 

"  They  are  not  true  women,  though,"  declared  the 
Marquis  d'Anguilhon. 

"  No,  they  are  still  children-prodigies,  but  children 
nevertheless.  There  is  great  childishness  in  their  com- 
prehension of  life,  in  their  way  of  treating  men  and 
of  flirting.  The  Boston  woman  is  an  intellectual 
child,  the  Philadelphia  woman  is  a  good,  reasonable 
child,  and  the  New  York  woman  a  terrible  child,  but 
very  brilliant  and  delightful  all  the  same.  When  they 
are  married  to  Europeans,  though,  they  become  women, 
true  women,  as  you  call  them,  Jacques." 

"  That  is  not  surprising,"  remarked  Clara.  "  Mis- 
fortune is  supposed  to  ripen  people." 

Every  one  laughed  at  this  sally. 

"  l''ou  see,"  said  the  Baron,  "  I  told  you  that  the 
New  York  woman  was  a  terrible  child." 

"  Yes,  and  brilliant  and  delightful,"  added  the 
Viscount  de  Nozay. 

"  Christiane,  it  was  an  excellent  idea  to  invite  us 
to  gouter.  I  use  that  word,  because  Monsieur  de 
Nozay  is  keen  on  it,"  said  Madame  de  Keradieu.  "  I 
have  not  enjoyed  a  cup  of  tea  so  much  for  a  long  time." 

"  Probably  because  you  have  earned  it,"  answered 
Christiane. 

"  Perhaps." 

"  Oh,  there  is  great  virtue  in  tea,"  remarked  Jacques. 
"  It  acts  very  agreeably  on  the  brain,  d<"ives  bad 
temper  away,  and  makes  one  feel  inclined  to  talk.  I 
like  it  for  its  own  sake  and  then  I  like  it,  too,  because 


112  AMERICAN  NOBILITY 

it  procures  for  me  the  pleasure  of  being  served  by 
women  and  for  us  poor  Westerners  that  is  rather  rare. 
Tea  is  an  excellent  drink  when  it  is  prepared  for  us 
by  refined,  graceful,  and  intelligent  hands." 

"  I  do  not  quite  see  where  the  intelligence  comes  in," 
remarked  the  Duke  de  Randan. 

"  It  is  the  most  important  thing  of  all,"  answered 
Jacques,  seriously.  "  A  silly,  selfish,  or  frivolous  woman 
cannot  give  you  your  tea  as  you  like  it.  She  does 
not  trouble  whether  it  is  too  strong  or  too  weak,  and 
she  invariably  gives  it  to  you  just  as  you  do  not  like 
it.  A  woman  who  is  intelligent  to  her  very  finger-tips, 
as  we  say,  divines  your  taste  and  what  she  gives  you 
is  always  perfect."  Jacques  glanced  at  the  Duchess, 
as  he  said  this,  and  it  was  evident  that  the  compliment 
was  intended  for  her.  "  I  should  be  afraid  of  the 
other  sort  of  woman  dosing  me  wrongly  with  every- 
thing, and  that  she  would  be  absolutely  devoid  of 
intuition,  that  sixth  sense  which  is  so  necessary  to 
women." 

"  Well,  then,  we  can  all  rejoice,"  said  Guy,  laugh- 
ing, "  for  the  future  Marchioness  d'Anguilhon  will  give 
us  excellent  tea." 

"  You  may  count  on  that." 

"  And  now,  girls,"  said  Madame  de  Keradieu,  "  let 
us  go  and  shut  up  shop." 

Annie  and  Clara  rose  and  thanked  their  hostess, 
who  stayed  at  the  little  table  for  some  time  talking 
to  the  old  Prince  de  Nolles. 

Whilst  Madame  de  Keradieu  was  giving  her  orders 
about  the  packing  of  the  silver,  the  Marquis  d'An- 
guilhon approached  Annie. 

"  It  is  very  good  of  you,"  he  said  to  her,  "  to  take 
such  interest  in  our  little  Waifs  and   Strays."    He 


AMERICAN  NOBILITY  113 

looked  full  at  her  and,  for  the  first  time,  with  the 
captivating  expression  in  his  eyes,  the  expression 
Annie  had  seen  in  the  portrait.  A  faint  colour  came 
into  her  face.  No  one  had  ever  made  such  an  im- 
pression on  her  and  she  was  furious  with  herself. 

"  Oh,  but  I  never  thought  of  the  little  Waifs  and 
Strays,"  she  said,  promptly.  "  I  only  thought  of  my 
own  amusement.     A  bazaar  is  always  such  fun." 

"  One  does  not  often  meet  with  such  frankness  as 
that,"  remarked  Jacques,  delighted  with  Annie's 
sincerity. 

"  Miss  Villars  is  always  frank,"  put  in  the  Viscount 
de  Nozay.  "  I  never  heard  as  many  truths  expressed 
as  since  I  have  had  the  honour  of  knowing  her." 

"  Truths  that  have  been  agreeable  for  yourself,  I 
hope." 

"  Hm,  I  must  tell  you  that  she  and  I  have  founded 
a  Society  for  mutual  evolution." 

"A  Society  for  what?"  asked  Jacques. 

"  For  mutual  evolution,"  repeated  Guy  with  comic 
seriousness.  "  To  evolve  is  to  progress.  Miss  Villars 
maintains  that  Europeans  have  not  yet  evolved.  We 
are  sentimentalists,  idealists,  excessive  in  everything 
because  we  have  not  evolved.  In  our  country,  children 
are  subject  to  their  parents,  women  can  neither  buy 
nor  sell  nor  give  their  signature  without  their  hus- 
bands' permission,  simply  because  we  have  not  evolved 
— and  so  on.  In  accordance  with  this  theory,  Miss 
Villars  is  endeavouring  to  fight  my  old  prejudices  and 
ideas  and  to  make  me  give  up  my  old  gods.  On  my 
side,  as  I  am  convinced  that,  for  her,  it  would  be 
progress  to  adopt  our  system,  I  am  trying  to  produce 
evolution  in  the  opposite  sense.     You  see  the  difficulty." 

"  I  should  say  the  impossibility.    Besides,  what  good 


114  AMERICAN  NOBILITY 

would  it  do  ?  The  prejudices  and  gods  of  Europe  would 
probably  be  ridiculous  aud  in  the  way  in  America." 

"Yes,  but  then  I  hope  that  Miss  Villars  will  not 
return  to  America,"  said  Guy,  who  sincerely  hoped 
that  Albert  de  Randan  would  win  the  day. 

"  Oh,  Monsieur  de  Nozay !  "  protested  Annie. 

"  It  is  not  a  question  of  Monsieur  de  Nozay,  of 
course.  I  have  ray  place  at  table  at  the  Duchess  de 
Blanzac's  and  at  Madame  de  Keradieu's.  All  I  ask 
is  for  a  rocking-chair  at  your  fireside.  I  should  then 
be  the  happiest  of  bachelors,  for  I  have  taken  the  vow 
of  celibacy  like  the  knights  of  Malta." 

"  Well,  I  will  invite  you  to  the  best  and  most  com- 
fortable rocking-chair  that  can  be  made  in  New  York 
and  it  shall  have  beautiful  cushions." 

"  A  week's  journey  from  Paris,  via  Havre,  all  that. 
No,  thank  you,  I  must  have  it  here  and  in  the  Faubourg 
St.  Germain  even." 

"  Ah,  you  are  asking  too  much,"  replied  the  girl 
drily. 

"  Of  course,"  put  in  Jacques.  "  If  the  American 
man  is  like  Henri's  description  just  now,  you  can 
scarcely  expect  Miss  Villars  to  prefer  a  Frenchman." 

"  On  the  contrary.  A  woman  loves  a  man,  not  for 
his  qualities,  as  she  says,  but  for  his  faults." 

"  Oh !  "  exclaimed  Annie. 

"  Miss  May  seems  to  think  that  an  American  woman 
who  marries  a  European  is  doomed  to  unhappiness. 
Are  you  of  her  opinion  ?  "  asked  Jacques,  boldly. 

"  Oh,  no,"  answered  Annie,  laughing.  "  But  I  do 
think  it  would  be  impossible  to  be  quite  happy  away 
from  one's  country  and  one's  friends.  A  husband 
cannot  take  the  place  of  everything,"  she  added, 
naively. 


AMERICAN  NOBILITY  115 

The  Marquis  looked  at  her  with  an  expression  of 
mingled  surprise  and  disdain,  which  somewhat  dis- 
turbed her  equanimity. 

"  I  thought,  and  I  have  always  heard  it  said,  that 
with  women  love  takes  the  place  of  everything,"  he 
said,  coldly. 

"  Ah,  but  you  are  thinking  of  women  who  have  not 
yet  evolved,"  remarked  Guy.  "  Still,  Madame  de 
Keradieu  left  her  friends  and  her  country  and  she  is 
perfectly  happy.  I  have  often  heard  her  say  that  she 
could  not  go  back  and  live  in  America  now." 

"  Well,  I  should  never  like  to  come  to  that,"  said 
Annie,  so  decidedly  that  the  Marquis  felt  a  sudden 
discouragement. 

"  I  count  on  my  rocking-chair,  nevertheless,"  re- 
marked the  Viscount. 

"And  I  only  hope  that  you  may  take  back  with  you 
pleasant  memories  of  Paris,"  said  Jacques. 

"  Oh,  yes,  that  I  certainly  shall,"  answered  Annie 
promptly.  "  Every  one  has  been  so  kind  and  so  agree- 
able.    I  never  expected  to  enjoy  myself  so  much  here." 

Madame  de  Keradieu  joined  the  little  group  at  this 
moment. 

"  Do  not  forget  that  you  are  dining  with  us  to- 
morrow at  eight,"  she  said  to  the  young  men. 

"  One  does  not  forget  pleasant  things,"  answered 
Jacques. 

"  A  pretty  speech." 

"  Coming  direct  from  the  heart,"  corrected  Jacques. 
"  If  you  only  call  it  a  pretty  speech,  it  sounds  as 
though  you  think  me  a  flatterer  and,  in  reality,  your 
Saturday  dinners  are  one  of  the  things  I  miss  the 
most  when  I  am  away  from  Paris." 

"  Thank  you,"  said  Madame  de  Keradieu,  holding 


116  AMERICAN  NOBILITY 

out  her  hand  to  the  young  man,  who  kissed  it  with 
the  courtesy  of  a  true  grand  seigneur. 

On  leaving  the  three  American  women,  Jacques  went 
to  the  Duchess  de  Blanzac. 

"Are  things  going  according  to  your  wishes?"  she 
asked. 

"  I  do  not  know.  The  young  person  seems  to  me  to 
have  a  very  decided  character." 

"  Have  you  broken  the  ice  ?  " 

"  Yes,  and  as  a  result,  I  had  a  bucket  of  water  over 
my  head." 

Jacques  repeated  the  conversation  he  had  had  with 
Annie. 

"  There  is  nothing  very  discouraging  in  that.  While 
you  were  talking,  I  was  watching  Miss  Villars,  and  I 
am  sure  that,  for  some  reason  or  another,  she  is 
interested  in  you.     Trust  to  my  impressions." 

"  Oh,  I  should  be  only  too  glad  to  have  faith  and 
to  hope." 

"  I  am  going  to  give  the  pink  dance,  of  which  1 
spoke  to  you,"  continued  Christiane.  "  You  shall  lead 
the  cotillon  with  Mademoiselle  de  Busset,  who  is  an 
ideal  girl.  That  will  give  you  prestige  with  Miss 
Villars." 

"  But  I  am  completely  out  of  practice.  I  have  not 
done  such  a  thing  for  six  years." 

"  Oh,  you  will  do  it  splendidly." 

"  People  will  think  I  have  broken  the  bank  at  Monte 
Carlo." 

"  No  matter  what  people  think.  The  only  thing  is, 
do  not  tell  a  soul  your  intentions.  Leave  the  field 
free  for  the  Duke  de  Randan.  He  is  not  at  all  dan- 
gerous. If  people  imagined  that  you  wanted  the 
heiress,  they  would  not  fail  to  tell  her  of  your  pecca- 


AMERICAN  NOBILITY  117 

dilloes  and  that  would  serve  to  stifle  the  liking  that 
she  now  has  for  you.  Later  on,  when  that  liking  has 
developed  into  love,  people  may  say  what  they  like. 
She  would  then  only  listen  to  her  own  heart." 

Jacques  gave  a  sigh  of  relief. 

"  Ah,  you  have  raised  my  courage  again.  Just  now, 
I  must  own,  I  felt  sure  that  my  dream  was  not  to 
be  realised." 

"  Oh,  come,  you  must  not  be  weak,"  said  Madame 
de  Blanzac.    "  '  Faint  heart  never  won  fair  lady.' " 


CHAPTER  X 

That  night,  for  the  first  time,  perhaps,  in  her  life, 
Annie  could  not  sleef).  As  soon  as  she  had  put  out 
the  light,  she  could  see  the  Bazaar,  the  Marquis 
d'Anguilhon's  face,  hear  his  words,  accompanied  as 
they  had  been  by  certain  expressions  she  had  read  in 
his  eyes,  and  all  this  made  her  mind  extremely  active. 
She  began  to  wonder  what  he  meant  by  a  true  woman. 
She  supposed  he  was  thinking  of  a  slave,  an  absurdly 
devoted  creature.  She  recalled  his  evident  disapproval 
of  the  attitude  of  American  men  towards  women,  and 
this  made  her  think  of  Frank  Barnett.  How  devoted 
he  had  always  been  and  how  eager  to  serve  her.  In 
spite  of  his  six  feet  and  his  big  fortune,  he  had  always 
been  ready  to  carry  her  jackets  and  her  sunshades. 
And  more  than  once,  too,  he  had  fanned  her.  What 
a  good  fellow  he  was!  She  could  not  imagine  him 
kissing  a  woman's  hand.  He  would  look  ridiculous 
doing  that,  whilst  it  seemed  quite  natural  to  the 
Marquis.  It  was  rather  a  pretty  custom,  after  all, 
and  Antoinette  de  Keradieu  seemed  to  have  grown 
quite  accustomed  to  it.  And  yet  to  feel  the  sensation 
of  a  man's  lips  on  her  hand  must  surely  be  horrible. 
— Annie  then  began  to  think  of  what  Jacques  had 
said  about  the  serving  of  the  tea.  She  vowed  to  her- 
self that  she  would  never  pour  tea  for  him.  What  an 
amount  of  imagination  any  one  must  have  to  discover 

il8 


AMERICAN  NOBILITY  119 

so  much  in  such  an  everyday  thing.  And  how  cold 
and  disdainful  he  had  looked  when  she  had  said  that 
a  husband  could  not  take  the  place  of  everything.  She 
ought  not  to  talk  like  that  before  foreigners.  It  had, 
perhaps,  given  the  Marquis  a  very  bad  opinion  of 
American  women.  He  had,  probably,  not  thought  her 
good  enough  for  a  Frenchman,  for  instead  of  second- 
ing Monsieur  de  Nozay  he  had  seemed  to  be  wishing 
her  a  safe  journey  back  to  America.  The  idea  that 
she  was  to  dine  with  him,  the  following  day  at  Madame 
de  Keradieu's,  caused  her  a  certain  joy,  not  unmingled 
with  anxiety.  She  said  to  herself  that  she  should 
never  feel  quite  at  ease  with  him.  He  seemed  so 
haughty.  How  very  much  he  resembled  the  Seigneur 
de  Blonay. — She  was  gradually  getting  sleepy  and 
her  thoughts  became  more  and  more  confused.  She 
could  see  the  Versailles  portrait  distinctly,  but  spon 
after  the  faces  of  the  ancestor  and  the  descendant 
became  confused  and  finally  she  fell  asleep. 


CHAPTER  XI 

After  the  Bazaar,  Annie  and  Jacques  met  almost 
daily,  but  they  did  not  appear  to  make  friends  easily 
at  all.  The  young  man  was  introduced  to  Mrs.  Villars, 
but  he  merely  left  his  card  at  her  hotel  afterwards. 
He  was  always  strictly  correct  but  rather  cold  when 
he  met  Annie  out  and  did  not  pay  her  any  special 
attention.  In  spite  of  this,  and  perhaps  even  on  this 
account,  he  excited  her  feminine  curiosity.  When  she 
saw  him  talking  to  any  one  else,  she  always  wondered 
what  he  was  saying,  and  every  word  of  his  to  her 
seemed  to  linger  in  her  mind.  She  was  interested  in 
all  he  did  and  she  could  not  help  watching  him  always. 
One  evening,  at  the  Duchess  de  Blanzac's,  she  hap- 
pened to  be  in  the  hall  at  the  same  time  that  he  was, 
when  he  was  leaving,  and  she  noticed  the  way  he  took 
his  coat  from  the  footman.  She  was  charmed  by  his 
extreme  refinement.  He  was  so  different  from  most  of 
the  other  men  and,  even  in  the  most  commonplace 
details  of  everyday  life,  he  seemed  like  a  superior 
being. 

She  had  managed  to  get  Madame  de  Keradieu  to 
tell  her  the  history  of  the  Marquis  d'Anguilhon  and 
his  family.  She  was  very  sorry  that  he  was  not  rich. 
It  seemed  a  pity  that  this  descendant  of  the  handsome 
Joyeuse  d'Anguilhon,  with  the  niffle  and  doublet, 
should  be  obliged  to  go  about  on  foot  or  in  cabs.     He 

120 


AMERICAN  NOBILITY  121 

ought  to  have  had  any  amount  of  money,  fine  horses, 
and  the  best  carriages  in  Paris. 

The  Duchess  de  Blanzac's  pink  dance  was  to  take 
place  on  the  Gth  of  May.  Annie  was  looking  forward 
to  it  with  the  greatest  pleasure  and  no  doubt  the  idea 
that  she  would  dance  with  "  the  Van  Dyck  "  added 
considerably  to  her  excitement.  When  the  great  day 
really  arrived  and  she  was  driving  to  the  ball,  she 
felt  that  it  was  ridiculous  to  be  so  excited,  but  she 
could  not  help  it  in  the  least. 

The  two  girls  were  wearing  beautiful  dresses  of 
different  shades  of  pink,  but  which  harmonised  ad- 
mirably and  suited  their  complexion  and  the  colour 
of  their  hair. 

The  Duchess  de  Blanzac  was  charmed  with  their 
appearance  as  thej'^  entered  her  drawing-room.  She 
complimented  them  warmly  and  this  gave  Annie  a 
certain  assurance. 

Jacques  looked  very  well  in  his  faultlessly  cut 
clothes.  He  was  wearing  a  rose  in  his  buttonhole, 
and  when  he  advanced  to  claim  the  waltz  Annie  had 
promised  him,  she  gave  him  her  hand  at  once.  A 
most  curious  thing  then  happened.  Under  the  impulse 
of  his  wish  to  conquer  the  young  girl,  Jacques  held  her 
almost  too  firmly  and  carried  her  off,  like  a  prey,  into 
the  whirl  of  the  dance,  the  whole  length  of  the  room. 
Annie  drew  herself  up  instinctively  and  Jacques,  feel- 
ing her  resistance,  held  her  still  more  firmly,  not  giv- 
ing way  at  all.  Gradually  Annie  became  more  supple 
in  his  arms,  her  feet  followed  his  docilely,  and  the 
waltz  finished  in  the  most  perfect,  intoxicating,  and 
delicious  harmony.  When  the  Marquis  took  Annie 
back  to  her  mother,  her  cheeks  were  as  pink  as  her 
dress.    Jacques'  eyes  shone  with   triumph.    He  had 


122  AMERICAN  NOBILITY 

had  too  much  exi)erience  with  women  not  to  be  fully 
aware  that  he  had  just  won  a  victory.  The  young 
girl  had  unconsciously  obeyed  him  and  this  was  a 
great  deal. 

Annie  did  not  realise  what  had  taken  place,  but 
she  felt  that  this  waltz  had  brought  them  nearer  to- 
gether and  had  created  a  sort  of  understanding  be- 
tween them.  When  he  thanked  her,  the  Marquis  had 
looked  at  her  in  a  peculiar  way,  with  a  gentle  expres- 
sion that  had  given  her  great  joy.  In  the  mirrors  too, 
as  they  were  dancing,  she  had  seen  the  outline  of  their 
two  figures,  drawn  together,  swaying  in  rhythm  to  the 
music  of  the  dance.  This  picture  had  been  photo- 
graphed in  her  brain  and  would  produce  the  desired 
effect 


CHAPTER  XII 

The  day  following  the  Duchess  de  Blanzac's  ball, 
Mrs.  Villars'  drawing-room,  bright  with  the  flames 
from  the  open  fire  and  brilliantly  lighted  by  several 
lamps,  was  very  picturesque.  Here  and  there  were 
draperies  of  antique  embroidered  silks,  on  the  side- 
tables  and  on  the  mantelpiece  were  valuable  curios 
and  unframed  pictures,  which  represented  the  dis- 
coveries and  purchases  of  the  last  few  weeks.  There 
were  spring  flowers  everywhere  and,  hanging  on  nails, 
cotillon  trophies.  The  three  American  women  were 
writing  most  diligently.  Their  brilliant  complexions, 
beautiful  hair,  and  light  dresses  seemed  to  add  still 
more  brightness  to  the  room.  Mrs.  Villars  was  seated 
at  her  little  table  and  Annie  and  Clara  in  front  of 
the  fire,  with  their  writing-cases  on  their  knees.  They 
only  stopped  writing  to  ask  each  other  for  information 
or  to  see  whether  some  detail  were  quite  correct. 
Their  pens  seemed  inexhaustible  and  line  after  line 
was  added,  until  at  last  each  of  them  had  quite  a 
collection  of  sheets  ready  for  post. 

Towards  nine  o'clock,  one  of  the  hotel  pages  an- 
nounced Madame  de  Keradieu. 

"Antoinette!"  exclaimed  the  girls,  getting  up  to 
welcome  their  visitor,  and  quickly  putting  aside  all 
their  writing  materials. 

"  Oh,  I  am  interrupting  the  letters,"  said  the  visitor. 
"  I  am  sorry." 

123 


124  AMERICAN  NOBILITY 

"  It  doet  not  matter  at  all.  We  have  plenty  of  time 
for  that,"  replied  Mrs.  Vlllara.  "  Where  is  Monsieur 
de  Keradieu  ?  " 

"  He  will  be  here  soon.  He  went  to  the  Club  to 
meet  Jacques  d'Anguilhon.  He  asked  him  to  go  and 
look  at  those  horses  that  Annie  saw.  Henri  wanted 
to  have  his  opinion,  for  he  is  one  of  the  best  judges 
of  horses  in  Paris." 

"  Oh,  it  was  no  use  asking  him  though,"  said  the 
girl  promptly,  "  for  I  have  quite  decided  on  the  bay. 
It  is  certainly  the  more  beautiful  one;  it  is  a  fine 
animal." 

"  Yes,  but  Henri  is  doubtful  about  it  and  he  prefers 
not  being  entirely  responsible." 

"  He  is  quite  right,"  said  Mrs.  Villars.  "  Annie  is 
horribly  imprudent.  It  is  quite  enough  for  any  one 
to  tell  her  that  a  horse  is  dangerous.  She  at  once 
wants  it.     Oh,  she  is  her  father's  own  child." 

"  Oh,  as  for  you,  mother,  you  would  like  me  never 
to  ride  a  horse  under  twenty  years  of  age,"  said  Annie 
laughing. 

"Well,  what  did  you  think  of  the  ball?"  asked 
Madame  de  Keradieu. 

"  It  was  splendid,  perfect,  as  a  whole  and  in  every 
detail,"  answered  Annie,  enthusiastically. 

"  Yes,  it  certainly  was  perfect,"  agreed  Madame  de 
Keradieu.  "  It  was  a  dream  for  a  colourist.  That 
pink  whirlpool,  with  all  the  shades  mingling  and,  at 
times,  causing  the  black  coats  to  disappear,  was  most 
effective.  I  do  not  remember  such  a  gay  and  brilliant 
ball.  Every  woman  dancing  looked  under  thirty.  Ah, 
the  men  did  not  want  any  persuading  last  night.  They 
were  all  willing  enough  to  dance." 

"  The  Duchess  de  Blanzac  is  an  excellent  hostess," 


AMERICAN  NOBILITY  125 

put  in  Mrs.  Villars,  "  and  she  looked  very  beauti- 
ful." 

"  Yes,  did  she  not?"  said  Antoinette,  looking  pleased. 
"  And  then  what  a  delightful  cotillon  we  had." 

"  The  little  wheelbarrows  of  roses  were  a  brilliant 
idea,"  put  in  Clara. 

"And  what  about  this?"  said  Annie,  getting  up 
and  taking  a  large  straw  hat  from  a  screen.  She  put 
it  on  her  head  and  turned  to  Madame  de  Keradieu : 

"  Look  how  well  it  suits  me,"  she  continued.  "  f 
shall  wear  it  at  the  sea.  Just  think,  a  straw  hat  that 
might  cost  four  sous,  with  a  hundred  francs'  worth 
of  chic.    It  looks  like  one  of  Virot's  creations." 

"  It  is  one  of  her  creations." 

"  There,  you  see,  I  am  right ! "  exclaimed  Annie, 
triumphantly. 

"  All  the  same,"  remarked  Clara,  "  we  do  things  on 
a  bigger  scale  in  America." 

"  On  too  big  a  scale  even.  In  France,  it  would  be 
thought  bad  taste  to  offer  expensive  presents  to  one's 
guests  instead  of  mere  souvenirs." 

"Bad  taste?"  repeated  Clara  in  a  vexed  tone.  "I 
do  not  see  why  we  should  conform  to  the  European 
code  of  what  is  fitting.  We  are  quite  capable  of  mak- 
ing a  code  for  ourselves.  We  have  no  chateaux  to 
keep  up  and  our  wealth,  not  being  hampered  by  ex- 
penses, keeps  increasing,  thanks  to  our  work.  We  are 
quite  free  to  give  fetes  that  are  considered  too  magnifi- 
cent, if  that  should  amuse  us.  We  are  free  to  cover 
ourselves  with  jewellery  and  to  give  expensive  presents 
to  our  friends." 

"  But,  my  dear  girl,  beauty  and  taste  have  certain 
recognised  rules.  The  first  of  these  rules  is  simplicity. 
It  is  better  to  keep  to  that  than  to  err  on  the  other  side." 


126  AMERICAN  NOBILITY 

"  Oh,  well,  I  am  quite  satisfied  with  us  as  we  are," 
said  Clara,  in  an  amusing  way.  "  I  prefer  profusion 
to  niggardliness,  and  youth  to  old  age.  Five  years 
ago,  on  our  last  trip  to  Europe,  my  father  took  it 
into  his  head  to  go  to  Devonshire  and  see  the  place 
we  came  from.  We  found  the  old  family  home,  a  grey, 
dilapidated  house,  and,  in  the  background,  century-old 
trees  with  rooks'  nests.  It  seemed  to  us  like  the 
abomination  of  desolation.  We  went  to  visit  the 
family  graves,  in  the  church  and  cemetery  near. 
Whilst  my  father  was  deciphering  some  of  the  names, 
I  thought  of  our  house  in  Washington  Square  and  of 
our  fine  New  York  cemetery,  where  the  dead  seem  to 
be  so  rich  and  so  comfortable,  and  I  exclaimed: 
'  Thank  God  that  there  was  a  May  intelligent  enough 
to  go  to  America.' " 

"  Oh,  Clara,  you  are  perfectly  impossible,"  said 
Madame  de  Keradieu. 

"  I  went  and  bought  some  flowers,"  continued  the 
girl,  *  and  I  put  some  on  those  poor  tombstones,  all 
chipped  away  by  the  damp." 

"  Well,  that  was  a  nice,  poetical  idea,  at  any  rate." 

"  Oh,  I  do  not  know  about  its  being  poetical.  I 
simply  felt  that  I  ought  to  take  a  few  flowers  to  the 
graves  of  those  people  whose  name  I  bear.  Really 
and  truly  though,  I  have  never  come  to  Europe  with- 
out congratulating  myself  that  I  was  born  an  Ameri- 
can. And  how  I  do  pity  French  girls !  Fancy  always 
being  watched  over  and  held  in  a  leash  like  a  spaniel. 
It  would  make  me  absolutely  evil.  I  do  not  fancy 
they  are  angels  either.  They  are  shy  and  nervous 
rather  than  modest.  They  blush  when  a  man  comes 
near  them  and  only  answer  in  monosyllables,  but  their 
eyes  speak  volumes.     I  have  never  seen  an  American 


AMERICAN  NOBILITY  127 

girl  with  such  a  look  in  her  eyes.  Every  gesture  and 
every  movement  is  uunatdi-al.  They  might  be  acting 
in  some  drawing-room  comedy.  If  they  had  as  much 
liberty  as  we  have,  Heaven  knows  what  they  might  do 
with  it." 

"Very  foolish  things,  probably,"  said  Madame  de 
Keradieu,  "  foolish  things  that  would  be  irreparable. 
When  people  are  not  used  to  liberty,  it  is  a  dangerous 
thing.  Our  system  of  education  is  all  very  well  for 
America,  but  it  would  have  deplorable  consequences 
here.  If  I  had  a  daughter,  I  should  bring  her  up  as 
a  French  girl." 

"Oh,  Antoinette!"  exclaimed  Annie. 

"  Yes,  and  very  strictly  too;  the  habits  and  customs 
of  the  country  require  it." 

"  Nice  habits  and  customs !  "  put  in  Clara. 

"  Well,  let  us  be  honest.  If  girls  in  America  can 
be  emancipated  without  running  much  danger,  to  whom 
do  we  owe  this?  To  the  men  who  respect  them,  more 
than  they  respect  themselves.     Is  not  that  so?" 

"  Y''es,  it  certainly  is,  and  the  liberty  they  are  allowed 
is  beginning  to  have  disastrous  consequences.  In 
America,  at  present,  there  is  an  alarming  looseness 
with  regard  to  principles  and  customs." 

"  I  used  to  think  as  Clara  does,"  continued  Madame 
de  Keradieu.  "  The  system  of  feminine  education  in 
Europe  used  to  seem  barbarous  to  me.  I  now  find 
that  it  has  many  advantages.  In  the  first  place,  it  en- 
ables girls  to  have  a  longer  time  of  innocence,  reverie, 
and  illusions.  It  also  preserves  their  moral  and  phys- 
ical freshness  and  that  is  a  great  charm,  a  charm 
that  men  appreciate  greatly." 

"  I  hope  you  do  not  approve  of  the  way  marriages 
are  arranged  in  France  ?  "  said  Annie. 


128  AMERICAN  NOBILITY 

"  Yes,  I  do,  for  it  is  the  outcome  of  the  system 
of  education.  It  has  its  good  side,  too.  It  very  rarely 
happens  that  parents  oblige  their  daughter  to  marry 
a  man  she  does  not  care  for.  Before  a  young  man 
is  introduced  to  her,  the  parents  have  made  inquiries 
about  him,  about  his  family,  his  past  life,  his  health, 
and  his  character.  In  this  way,  she  has  a  certain 
security  and  does  not  run  the  risk  of  giving  her 
affection  to  a  man  unworthy  of  it." 

"  Well,  I  can  only  see  one  advantage  in  the  system," 
said  Clara.  "  If  the  marriage  turns  out  badly,  a 
French  girl  has  the  satisfaction  of  being  able  to  lay 
the  blame  on  her  father  and  mother,  whilst  with  us, 
we  can  only  tear  our  own  hair  out,  as  the  fault  is 
always  our  own,  and  that  is  annoying." 

"  Ah,  I  never  thought  of  that,"  said  Madame  de 
Keradieu,  very  much  amused. 

"  But  a  girl  could  never  love  a  husband  chosen  by 
her  parents,"  objected  Annie. 

"  And  why  not,  if  you  please  ?  You  have  no  idea 
how  quickly  a  girl  falls  in  love  when  she  has  been 
brought  up  within  convent  walls  or  in  austere  sur- 
roundings. Henri  maintains  that  the  love  born  of 
marriage  is  the  strongest  and  most  lasting  of  all  love 
and  I  believe  it  is." 

"  And  yet  there  are  not  many  happy  marriages  in 
France,"  said  Clara. 

"  That  is  quite  a  mistake,  my  dear  girl.  You  must 
not  judge  society  by  the  novels  or  by  the  stage  as, 
for  some  incomprehensible  reason,  we  get  nothing  but 
scenes  from  fast  life.  Temptations  of  all  kinds  abound 
in  Paris  and  conjugal  faithfulness  may  be  more  rare 
there,  but  Paris  is  not  the  French  nation.  In  the 
provinces,  people  are  very  serious  and  even  rigid,  and 


AMERICAN  NOBILITY  129 

families  are  very  united.  You  may  take  my  word  for 
it  that  you  will  not  find  as  many  fine  characters  and 
virtuous  people  anywhere  as  you  will  find  in  France." 

"  Is  Mademoiselle  de  Busset,  who  led  the  cotillon 
with  Monsieur  d'Anguilhon,  rich  ? "  asked  Annie, 
abruptly. 

"  Yes,  she  will  have  rather  a  big  dowry." 

"  Well,  she  would  be  the  wife  for  your  friend,  then." 

"  Why,  Annie,"  exclaimed  Madame  de  Keradieu, 
"  are  you  suggesting  marrying  for  money  ?  " 

"  Oh,  I  do  not  approve  of  that  way  of  increasing 
one's  income.  Still,  I  can  better  understand  now  that 
a  man  with  a  great  name,  a  title,  and  no  money  may 
be  obliged  to  look  out  for  a  dowry." 

"  He  might  work,"  suggested  Clara. 

"  But  if  every  one  were  producing  and  earning 
money,  there  would  soon  be  too  many  on  the  field." 

"  In  America,  every  one  is  producing  and  earning 
money,"  persisted  Clara. 

"  Yes,  it  does  not  matter  there,  as  our  country  is 
immense  and  then,  too,  it  is  a  country  that  is  still 
being  made.  We  are  too  rich,  though,  already.  Henri 
maintains  a  theory  which  sounds  like  a  paradox,  but 
on  thinking  it  over  you  will  see  that  it  is  true.  He 
says  that  every  living  creature  works,  as  every  one  is 
active  in  some  way  and  every  one  spends  and  absorbs. 
There  are  beings  of  a  luxurious  kind,  just  as  there  are 
thoroughbred  horses,  but  they  are  not  more  idle  than 
the  other  sort.  Take  the  Duchess  de  Blanzac,  for 
instance.  It  took  her  quite  a  fortnight  of  hard  work 
to  organise  that  ball,  and  the  ball  gave  work  to  num- 
bers of  arms,  legs,  and  brains  and  cost  about  a  hundred 
thousand  francs.  The  Marquis  d'Anguilhon  could  not 
paint  pictures,  but  he  would  know  what  pictures  to 


130  AMERICAN  NOBILITY 

buy.  I  am  very  sorry  indeed  that  he  does  not  own 
millions,  for  he  would  make  the  best  possible  use  of 
them,  and  it  is  not  at  all  an  easy  thing  to  spend  well. 
Mademoiselle  de  Busset's  dowry  would  not  be  enough 
for  him,  and  I  very  much  fear  that  he  will  be  the 
last  of  his  race.  He  will  never  marry,  if  he  cannot 
keep  up  his  rank,  get  back  the  Blonay  chMeau,  and 
keep  up  their  house  in  the  Rue  de  Varenne." 

"  It  is  a  wonder  that  he  has  not  tried  to  capture 
some  poor  American  heiress." 

"  He  had  the  opportunity  of  marrying  one  who  was 
immensely  rich." 

"Really?" 

"  Yes.  Two  years  ago,  the  Marchioness  Taller  took 
it  into  her  head  to  get  him  married  to  a  wealthy 
heiress.  All  seemed  to  be  going  splendidly,  when 
Monsieur  d'Anguilhon  suddenly  declared  that  he  did 
not  want  to  marry.  From  what  I  gathered  the  young 
person  was  a  parvenue,  one  of  those  American  girls 
who  persist  in  wearing  whole  bushes  of  flowers,  and 
rings  that  are  much  too  noticeable.  The  long  and 
short  of  it  is  that  Madame  Taller  has  never  forgiven 
him.  With  a  mother  like  his,  he  could  never  marry 
a  girl  with  no  education.  Next  time  we  go  to  America, 
we  intend  to  take  him  with  us.  I  should  like  him  to 
have  a  right  idea  of  our  country.  We  like  him  very 
much.     What  do  you  think  of  him  ?  " 

"  I  like  him,"  answered  Annie,  promptly. 

"  His  nose  is  perfect,"  added  her  cousin. 

"  Oh,  Clara ! "  protested  Madame  de  Keradieu. 

"  Well,  I  have  a  weakness  for  a  well-cut  nose.  It 
was  George's  nose  that  made  me  accept  him.  I  am 
sure  I  shall  be  glad  to  look  at  it  all  my  life." 

"  I    like    Frenchmen    better   than    I    should    have 


AMERICAN  NOBILITY  131 

thought  it  possible  to  like  them,"  said  Annie.  "They 
are  so  amusing,  and  even  interesting.  Some  of  them, 
not  all,  by  any  means,  have  a  very  nice  way  with 
women." 

"  It  would  be  droll  if  Annie  were  to  marry  a 
Frenchman,  after  all,"  said  Madame  de  Keradieu. 

"Oh,  as  to  that,  never!"  answered  the  young  girl, 
emphatically. 

"  Thank  Heaven,  she  still  has  a  gleam  of  common- 
sense,"  put  in  Clara. 

"  That  is  nice  for  me,  considering  that  I  am  married 
to  a  Frenchman." 

"  Oh,  well,  your  husband  is  your  excuse.  You  must 
admit  that  there  are  not  many  like  him  in  Paris." 

"  Nor  anywhere  else." 

Just  at  this  moment,  there  was  a  rap  at  the  door 
and,  to  the  surprise  of  every  one.  Monsieur  de  Keradieu 
appeared  accompanied  by  Jacques. 

Annie  could  not  help  feeling  a  certain  emotion. 
Monsieur  d'Anguilhon  apologised  for  arriving  in  the 
evening  in  so  informal  a  way. 

"  Oh,  yes,  I  had  to  drag  him  in  by  sheer  force," 
said  Monsieur  de  Keradieu.  "  I  thought  that  the  two 
of  us  might  perhaps  manage  to  persuade  Miss  Villars 
to  give  up  the  idea  of  the  bay  horse  to  which  she  has 
taken  such  a  fancy." 

"  Give  it  up  ?  Never !  I  tried  it  yesterday  at  the 
riding-school.  We  understand  each  other  perfectly 
already  and  I  feel  quite  sure  that  I  can  hold  him  in." 

"  Yes,  but  d'Anguilhon  has  the  same  impression  that 
I  had.  We  both  think  the  creature  capable  of  playing 
a  trick  on  its  rider." 

"  Oh,  Annie,  do  not  be  obstinate,"  implored  Mrs. 
Villars. 


132  AMERICAN  NOBILITY 

"  But,  mother,  you  do  not  understand  anything  about 
horses,"  replied  the  girl,  slightly  irritated.  "  I  believe 
you  can  just  tell  their  heads  from  their  tails." 

Every  one  laughed  except  Jacques,  and  Annie  felt 
intuitively  that  he  was  rather  badly  impressed  by  her 
retort. 

"  It  is  true,"  she  continued,  more  gently,"  that  one 
must  love  riding  to  understand  the  pleasure  there  is 
in  mounting  a  lively  thoroughbred  that  is  a  little 
difficult  to  manage." 

"  I  certainly  do  not  understand  that  pleasure,  but 
I  do  understand  the  grief  it  would  be  to  me  if  you 
were  to  be  crippled  and  disfigured." 

"  Do  not  be  alarmed,  Madame,"  said  Jacques,  "  we 
will  not  let  your  daughter  buy  a  dangerous  horse." 

"  But  what  vice  have  you  discovered  in  this  bay  ?  " 

"  None,  except  that  it  is  extremely  nervous.  Mounted 
by  a  man,  there  would  be  no  fear  of  anything  happen- 
ing, but  I  should  not  like  to  see  a  woman  on  its  back." 

"  But  it  is  such  a  beautiful  creature,"  said  Annie, 
her  eyes  moist  with  vexation  and  disappointment. 

"  Agreed,  but  the  other  one  is  superb  too.  You  will 
have  your  work  before  you  there,  but  he  is  more  even. 
It  is  a  horse  for  a  queen." 

Annie  was  just  on  the  verge  of  making  another  im- 
patient speech.  She  tried  to  brave  Jacques'  eyes  which 
were  fixed  full  on  her. 

"  You  are  two  to  one,"  she  said,  shrugging  her 
shoulders  and  twisting  the  end  of  her  waistband 
nervously.  "  I  am  obliged  to  give  in.  I  will  have 
the  other  one." 

"  That 's  right.  There 's  a  reasonable  girl.  It  is 
not  often  that  an  American  gives  in  with  such  good 
grace,"  said  Monsieur  de  Keradieu. 


AMERICAN  NOBILITY  133 

"  Are  they  so  very  independent  ?  "  asked  Jacques. 

"Independent?  I  should  just  think  they  are.  In 
the  first  place,  in  the  United  States,  every  one  refrains 
from  giving  advice  even  to  one's  nearest  and  dearest 
relatives.  With  us,  we  should  call  the  system  egoism ; 
over  there  they  call  it  respect  for  individual  liberty. 
An  American  I  know  read  the  little  notice  here  in 
the  omnibus  by  which  the  Prefect  of  Police  advises 
the  passengers  not  to  get  out  until  they  see  that  they 
can  do  so  without  danger.  He  was  amazed  and 
thought  the  warning  not  only  ridiculous  but  imper- 
tinent. He  considered  that  it  was  an  infringement  on 
one's  liberty — the  liberty  we  have  to  get  run  over  if 
we  like.  That  will  give  you  an  idea  of  the  spirit  of 
the  country." 

"  Then,  Mademoiselle,  I  must  ask  you  to  forgive  me 
for  having  wished  to  prevent  you  from  breaking  your 
neck,"  said  Jacques,  with  a  sly  smile. 

"  And  in  accordance  with  European  ways  and  cus- 
toms, I  suppose  I  ought  to  thank  you  for  your  interest 
on  my  behalf?" 

"  Certainly,"  answered  Jacques. 

"  Bravo,"  exclaimed  Monsieur  de  Keradieu,  "  now  you 
have  each  done  your  duty." 

"  I  am  surprised  that  you  had  the  courage  to  marry 
an  American  woman,"  said  Annie,  by  way  of  avenging 
herself  on  some  one  for  the  defeat  she  had  just 
sustained. 

"  You  see,  I  am  naturally  brave,"  replied  Monsieur 
de  Keradieu,  "  and  then  I  felt  that  I  should  be  able 
to  obtain  my  wife's  respect  and  submission." 

"  Oh,  poor  American  women !  If  only  they  knew 
what  awaited  them  in  Europe!"  remarked  Clara,  in 
a  joking  way. 


134  AMERICAN  NOBILITY 

"  They  would  all  come,  if  they  did  know,"  said  Mon- 
sieur de  Keradieu,  promptly.  He  then  caught  sight  of 
the  blotting  cases  and  letters.  "  Ah,"  he  continued, 
"  and  so  j'ou  were  writing?  I  am  sure  you  have  sent 
home  good  descriptions  of  the  ball  last  night.  In  a 
hundred  years'  time,  there  will  be  some  interesting 
documents  about  Europe  to  be  found  in  the  United 
States.  All  this  correspondence  will  then  be  very 
valuable." 

"  I  hope  ours  may  be  as  valuable  as  the  rest,"  said 
Annie. 

The  two  men  now  rose  to  take  leave  and,  whilst 
Madame  de  Keradieu  was  putting  on  her  mantle,  Annie 
said  to  the  baron : 

"  Well,  then,  I  count  on  you  for  buying  me  the 
famous  horse." 

"  Yes,  you  will  have  it  the  day  after  to-morrow  and 
then  we  will  begin  our  morning  rides." 

"  I  shall  be  thankful,  for  I  need  exercise  and  fresh 
air." 

Just  before  leaving,  the  Marquis  d'Anguilhon  looked 
full  at  Annie  and  said,  quietly: 

"  You  do  not  owe  me  any  grudge,  do  you  ?  " 

He  held  out  his  hand  to  her  for  the  first  time  and 
Annie  put  her  hand  in  his  and  said  with  a  gay  smile : 

"  None  whatever." 

"WTien  the  visitors  had  gone,  the  three  women  sat 
down  again  to  their  writing,  but  Annie  could  no  longer 
give  her  mind  to  her  letter.  The  conversation  that 
had  just  taken  place,  and  the  face  of  "  Van  Dyck  " 
kept  interfering  with  her  descriptions.  No,  she  could 
not  imagine  the  descendant  of  the  Seigneur  de  Blonay 
marrying  a  vulgar  American  girl.  It  would  be  a  great 
pity,  too,  she  thought.     She  felt  sure  that  the  Marquis 


AMERICAN  NOBILITY  135 

d'Anguilhon  would  not  be  a  very  easy  man  to  get  on 
with.  How  authoritative  he  had  been  just  now,  and 
yet  she  could  not  bear  him  any  ill-will,  for  it  was, 
after  all,  a  proof  of  his  interest  in  her  welfare.  She 
felt  as  though  they  had  now  become  friends  and  this 
thought  made  her  quite  joyous.  Without  being  aware 
of  it  herself  at  the  time,  she  felt  that  ever  since  she 
had  first  met  him  she  had  wanted  to  be  on  friendly 
terms  with  him. 


CHAPTER  XIII 

The  Marquis,  on  his  side,  knew  that  the  ice  was 
now  broken  for  Miss  Villars  and  himself.  The  next 
time  he  met  her,  he  talked  to  her  as  though  he  had 
now  entered  into  the  circle  of  her  life  and  were  not 
going  out  of  it  again. 

He  talked  to  Annie  in  a  friendly  way,  which  put 
her  completely  off  her  guard.  In  spite  of  Jacques' 
absolutely  simple  manners,  she  stood  somewhat  in  awe 
of  him  and  would  not  have  ventured  to  joke  with 
him  just  as  she  did  with  the  Viscount  de  Nozay  or 
the  Baron  de  Keradieu.  When  he  was  present,  she 
never  attacked  European  routine  and  prejudices  and, 
although  she  was  always  decided,  she  was  uncon- 
sciously more  gentle.  With  him,  too,  she  was  more 
careful  about  her  French.  If  she  made  any  mistake, 
he  always  corrected  her  very  calmly,  and  she  was 
grateful  to  him  for  this.  She  liked  him  to  come  and 
talk  to  her,  as  this  flattered  her  vanity.  When  he  was 
with  her,  she  always  felt  more  important,  and  she  had 
never  had  this  sentiment  with  any  other  man,  not 
even  with  the  Duke  de  Randan. 

Although  Jacques  never  paid  her  any  compliments, 
she  could  tell  when  he  was  especially  pleased  with  her 
appearance,  and  the  delight  that  this  caused  her 
animated  her  whole  expression. 

Annie  did  not  realise  the  gravity  of  these  symptoms 

136 


AMERICAN  NOBILITY  18T 

and,  strangely  enough,  she  thought  more  of  Frank 
Barnett  just  now  than  she  had  thought  of  him  since 
she  had  left  New  York.  She  remembered  all  the 
pleasant  excursions  in  his  yacht  and  all  the  fetes  of 
which  she  had  been  the  queen.  A  hundred  different 
instances  of  his  kindness  and  generosity  came  to  her 
mind.  She  wrote  to  his  sister,  Mrs.  Adair,  a  letter  of 
some  twenty  pages,  knowing  full  well  that  he  would 
read  it  through,  from  the  first  line  to  the  last,  and 
she  asked  for  a  photograph  of  his  villa  at  Lenox.  She 
very  often  looked  at  his  portrait  and,  one  day,  she 
took  it  up,  gazed  at  it  attentively,  and  said  aloud: 
"  What  a  good  fellow  he  is ! "  A  kind  of  secret  in- 
stinct seemed  to  draw  her  towards  this  friend  of  her 
childhood,  just  at  a  time  when  her  fate  was  separating 
her  from  him  for  ever. 

Jacques,  though  perfectly  tranquil  to  all  appear- 
ances, was  feverishly  anxious.  At  one  moment  he  was 
most  hopeful,  and  directly  afterwards  thoroughly  dis- 
couraged. He  kept  wondering  whether  this  marriage 
was  to  be  or  was  not  to  be  and,  with  his  nerves  strained 
to  the  utmost  tension,  he  kept  trying  to  look  ahead. 

He  had  ample  time  and  opportunity  for  studying 
Annie.  She  was  quite  a  fresh  type  of  girl  to  him, 
with  her  studied  elegance,  her  independent  character 
and  manners  and  her  knowledge  of  life  and  of  the 
world.  He  was  somewhat  disconcerted  by  her  and 
even  a  trifle  horrified.  He  soon  saw  though,  that,  in 
spite  of  her  emancipation,  her  soul  was  very  fresh  and 
even  childlike  and  he  was  greatly  impressed  by  her 
pure  mind.  Underneath  her  modernism  he  saw  that 
she  had  the  qualities  which  are  peculiar  to  people  of 
old  standing  and  he  said  to  himself  that,  thanks  to 
these  qualities,  she  and  his  mother  would  get  on  well 


188  AMERICAN  NOBILITY 

together.  He  was  delighted  with  her  pleasantness,  for 
it  was  so  easy  to  entertain  and  interest  her.  It  was 
not  necessary  to  go  far  afield  when  he  wanted  to  get 
her  attention.  He  felt  a  sort  of  restfulness  and 
repose  when  he  was  with  her,  as  she  was  not  at  all 
like  the  women  with  complex  natures  he  had  hitherto 
known.  He  realised  though,  that  although  it  was  easy 
to  entertain  her,  it  would  not  be  easy  to  win  her. 
She  was  neither  sensuous,  romantic,  nor  ambitious,  so 
that  he  could  not  find  any  vulnerable  point.  The  more 
he  saw  of  her,  the  more  he  realised  how  much  of  a 
foreigner  she  was  and  how  devoted  she  was  to  her 
own  country  and  to  her  own  people.  When,  with  her 
usual  assurance,  she  talked  to  him  about  her  return 
to  America,  or  showed  him  some  fresh  acquisition  for 
their  New  York  house,  he  could  not  help  feeling  a 
slight  pang  and,  for  days  afterwards,  everything  seemed 
very  gloomy  to  him,  and  he  would  say  to  himself  that 
the  idea  of  this  marriage  was  nothing  but  one  of  the 
snares  and  delusions  that  a  man  so  often  finds  on  his 
pathway  through  life. 

Jacques  had  frequent  opportunities  of  judging 
Annie's  strength  of  character.  One  evening,  at  the 
Duchess  de  Blanzac's,  she  had  declined  to  play  poker, 
because  it  was  Sunday.  The  Duke  de  Randan  had 
suggested  that  God  could  not  really  mind  whether 
people  played  cards  or  not  that  day. 

"  That  may  be  so,"  said  Annie,  "  indeed  it  very 
probably  is  so,  but,  as  my  religion  forbids  me,  I 
cannot  play." 

The  others  were  all  cruel  enough  to  persuade  her, 
but  she  resisted,  although  tears  of  disappointment  came 
into  her  eyes. 

This  strong  sense  of  duty  had  raised  her  consider- 


AMERICAN  NOBILITY  139 

ably  in  Jacques'  esteem,  but  it  also  alarmed  him,  for, 
as  he  said  to  himself,  the  same  sense  of  duty  might 
urge  her  to  refuse  to  marry  a  Catholic.  He  recognised 
now  how  wise  Madame  de  L^ne  had  been  in  insisting 
that  he  should  put  himself  in  the  hands  of  the  Duchess 
de  Blanzac.  If  it  had  not  been  for  her,  he  would  cer- 
tainly have  tried  to  hurry  matters  and  so  would 
have  lost  every  possible  chance  of  success.  She  guided 
him  with  that  tact  and  skill  peculiar  to  extremely 
intelligent  women.  She  knew  that  if  Jacques  failed 
now,  he  would  start  for  Africa,  and  she  was  sure  that 
in  his  disappointment  he  would  be  utterly  reckless  of 
his  life.  This  marriage  became  the  great  subject  of 
her  thoughts  and  there  were  days  when,  on  seeing 
Annie  and  thinking  of  the  power  this  girl  held  in  her 
hands,  she  was  tempted  to  say  straight  out  to  her: 
'*  Do  try  to  save  him."  Ever  since  she  had  taken  the 
matter  up  herself,  she  had  felt  worried  and  anxious. 
She  realised  now  that  she  ought  never  to  have  mixed 
herself  up  with  this  marriage,  but  it  was  very  clear 
that  she  could  not  get  out  of  it  now. 

She  was  always  thinking  how  she  could  help  Jacques 
and  she  was  constantly  inventing  opportunities  for 
him  to  meet  Annie.  She  talked  of  him  frequently  to 
the  girl  and  very  cleverly  showed  up  all  his  good 
qualities.  Her  knowledge  of  the  feminine  mind  was 
so  thorough  that  every  word  she  uttered  carried. 
Providence  had  certainly  chosen  its  instrument 
admirably. 

The  Duchess  de  Blanzac  studied  Annie  with  intense 
curiosity.  She  saw  that  she  was  interested  in  Jacques 
and  that  his  presence  acted  on  her.  If  on  entering  the 
room,  he  did  not  very  soon  go  and  talk  to  her,  Annie 
would  watch  him  nervouslv  and  become  absent-minded. 


140  AMERICAN  NOBILITY 

When  he  approached  her,  a  joyful  light  would  come 
into  her  eyes  and  her  whole  face  would  take  a  gentler 
expression. 

Of  course  all  this  might  be  a  straw  fire,  due  simply 
to  vanity.  Christiane  did  not  dare  raise  Jacques'  hopes 
too  much,  but  she  told  him  that  she  thought  he  had 
a  fair  chance  of  success. 

He  called  on  her  every  day  to  talk  things  over.  He 
always  arrived  a  little  before  two  o'clock,  in  order  to 
find  her  alone.  She  always  awaited  his  visit  with  a 
certain  anxiety.  Sometimes  he  would  arrive  with  a 
radiant  face,  and  at  others  looking  very  much  dis- 
couraged. He  kept  her  well  posted,  told  her  every 
incident  connected  with  himself  and  Annie,  and  even 
repeated  to  her  their  conversations.  The  Duchess 
listened  attentively,  gave  him  advice,  and  generally 
succeeded  in  instilling  into  him  the  calmness  and  force 
that  he  needed. 

After  talking  about  Annie,  they  would  discuss  a 
hundred  other  interesting  subjects,  art,  literature, 
philosophy,  and  social  topics.  These  talks  seemed  to 
draw  them  together  again,  after  the  separation  which 
the  various  events  of  their  respective  lives  had  caused 
between  them.  This  exchange  of  ideas  and  of  senti- 
ments joined,  once  more,  the  thread  of  their  two  exist- 
ences and  worked  on  their  souls  in  a  subtle,  unconscious 
way  which  was  to  take  eflEect  in  the  future. 


CHAPTER  XIV 

Clara  was  at  St.  Germain  with  some  of  her  friends, 
and  Mrs.  Villars  and  Annie  had  dined  alone.  On 
leaving  the  table,  Annie  picked  up  the  newspaper  and 
looked  at  the  theatrical  column. 

"  Oh,  they  are  giving  the  Brigands,  this  evening," 
she  said,  "  at  the  Vari6t6s.  I  have  never  seen  it  and 
it  is  the  last  time  they  will  give  it  this  season.  Why 
not  go?" 

"Alone?" 

"  Why  not?  We  will  take  Catherine  and  engage  one 
of  those  lower  boxes  in  which  you  are  scarcely  seen 
at  all.     It  will  be  fun." 

"Very  well,  we  will  go  to  the  Vari^t^s,"  said  Mrs. 
Villars,  who  never  liked  to  deprive  her  daughter  of 
anything  which  could  amuse  her. 

Annie  at  once  gave  the  necessary  orders  to  their 
courier  and  ordered  a  little  oyster  and  champagne 
supper,  enjoying  the  thought  of  Clara's  surprise  when 
she  returned. 

An  hour  later,  she  was  seated  in  one  of  those  mys- 
terious looking  boxes,  which  had  often  tempted  her. 
She  lifted  the  screen,  in  order  to  be  still  less  seen. 

"  There,"  she  said  laughing,  "  we  are  quite  at  home 
now." 

The  house  was  full,  but  with  a  very  ordinary  public, 
chiefly  composed  of  tourists,  middle-class  people,  and 

141 


142  AMERICAN  NOBILITY 

servants.  There  were  also  about  a  dozen  men  in  dress 
coats  and,  in  the  orchestra  stalls,  a  few  foreign  women, 
the  elegant  toilettes  of  girls  making  a  pleasant  con- 
trast to  the  dull-looking  house  on  this  last  night  of 
the  season.  Annie  did  not  see  a  single  face  she  knew. 
Suddenly,  her  heart  began  to  beat  quickly,  for  in  the 
doorway  she  had  just  caught  sight  of  Jacques.  She 
could  scarcely  believe  her  eyes  and  all  at  once  she 
felt  most  uneasy.  It  was  all  in  vain  that  she  began 
to  say  to  herself  that  she  had  every  right  to  come  to 
the  Vari^t^s,  if  she  liked,  with  her  mother.  She  was 
not  at  all  sure  that  she  had  not  been  rather  im- 
prudent. She  knew  how  strict  the  Marquis  d'An- 
guilhon  was  about  all  matters  of  etiquette  and  she 
felt  rather  afraid  that  he  might  disapprove.  She 
wished  they  could  get  away  and  she  was  delighted 
that,  at  any  rate,  they  were  invisible.  Only  two  of 
the  boxes  had  their  screens  up  and,  as  soon  as  there 
was  an  interval,  the  young  men  began  to  promenade 
in  front  of  them,  hoping  to  recognise  the  occupants. 
They  only  glanced  at  the  one  on  the  left,  but  they  kept 
coming  back  and  standing  in  front  of  the  one  in  which 
the  three  women  were  seated.  One  of  them,  who  looked 
like  a  wealthy  foreigner,  was  particularly  bold.  He 
planted  himself  in  the  middle  of  the  gangway  and 
gazed  in  a  daring  way  at  the  girl  who  was  so  well 
chaperoned  and  so  jealously  guarded.  Annie  was 
amused  at  first  at  the  curiosity  she  was  exciting,  but 
she  soon  began  to  feel  alarmed  at  these  gleaming  eyes 
fixed  on  her.  She  had  never  been  stared  at  in  this 
way.  She  changed  colour  and  her  confusion  increased 
when  she  became  convinced  she  had  been  taken  for  a 
demi-mondaine.  Mrs.  Villars  and  Catherine  gave  vent 
to  their  indignation. 


AMERICAN  NOBILITY  143 

Jacques  had  remained  in  his  place,  but  was  stand- 
ing up,  with  his  back  to  the  stage  looking  at  the  house. 
He  soon  noticed  what  was  going  on  around  the  mys- 
terious box  and,  curious  to  see  the  woman  who  was 
causing  the  sensation,  he  strolled  down  towards  the 
box  and  glanced  in  as  he  passed.  He  was  horrified 
on  recognising  Annie  and  her  mother.  Just  at  first 
he  had  a  bad  impression,  but  he  quickly  guessed  how 
matters  stood.  He  went  quickly  into  the  lobby, 
knocked  at  the  door  of  the  box,  entered,  and,  before 
pronouncing  a  word,  lowered  the  screen.  He  was  very 
pale  and  e\'idently  rather  excited. 

"  Excuse  me,"  he  said  to  the  two  women,  "  but  that 
screen  might  cause  you  most  disagreeable  adventures." 

"  Ah,  that  was  why  people  were  gazing  at  us  in 
such  a  strange  way?"  said  Mrs.  Villars.  "Thank 
you  very  much  for  coming  to  tell  us." 

"  What  harm  can  there  be  in  putting  up  the 
screens?"  asked  Annie,  quite  disconcerted. 

"  There  is  really  no  harm,  but  they  are  only  used 
by  people  who  have  special  reasons  for  hiding 
themselves,  or  who  do  not  wish  to  be  seen  in  bad 
company." 

"  Oh,"  exclaimed  Annie,  "  I  had  no  idea  of  that." 

"  No,  you  could  not,  of  course,  have  any  idea  of 
such  things,"  said  Jacques,  smiling. 

"  I  ought  to  have  known,"  put  in  Mrs.  Villars. 

Annie  laughed. 

"  Oh,  fancy  your  imagining  such  things !  You  are 
much  less  likely  to  than  I  am." 

This  remark  of  a  daughter  to  her  mother  seemed  to 
Jacques  simply  delightful. 

"  This  country  is  full  of  traps,"  continued  Annie, 
with  a  shade  of  annoyance  in  her  voice.    "  In  America, 


144  AMERICAN  NOBILITY 

women  are  safe  everywhere.  Here,  a  girl  cannot  go 
with  her  mother  and  her  maid  to  see  the  Brigands." 

"  Oh,  yes,"  said  Jacques,"  provided  you  do  not  take 
a  box  with  screens.  Confess  now  that  you  felt  it  was 
a  little  risky  and  that  the  forbidden  fruit  tempted 
you." 

"  Yes,"  she  owned  frankly,  colouring  slightly,  "  it 
did." 

"  You  see  with  us  a  woman  can  come  and  go,  say 
and  do  what  she  likes,  provided  she  keeps  within  the 
bounds  that  are  allowed  her.  If,  out  of  thoughtless- 
ness or  out  of  curiosity,  she  takes  it  into  her  head  to 
overstep  the  boundaries,  men  consider  that  they,  too, 
are  entitled  to  go  beyond  the  boundaries  and  she  risks 
being  taken  for  what  she  is  not,"  said  Jacques. 

"  And  that  is  just  what  has  happened  to  us  to-night, 
thanks  to  my  daughter's'  brilliant  idea,"  observed  Mrs. 
Villars. 

"  Those  horrible  young  men  have  gone,"  said  Annie. 

"  Yes,  they  see  that  they  were  mistaken.  You  need 
not  be  afraid  now." 

"  We  can  congratulate  ourselves  that  you  chanced  to 
come  to  this  theatre  to-night,"  continued  Mrs.  Villars. 

"  I  do  not  think  there  is  such  a  thing  as  chance," 
replied  Jacques.  "  I  went  as  far  as  the  Gymnase  with 
a  friend  and,  on  my  way  back,  I  was  looking  at  the 
poster  outside  this  theatre,  when  a  street  hawker  put 
a  programme  into  my  hand.  I  felt  irresistibly  drawn 
towards  the  entrance  and  I  now  see  why."  He  glanced 
at  Annie  as  he  said  this  with  an  expression  in  his 
eyes  which  somewhat  disturbed  her  equanimity. 

The  curtain  was  just  being  raised  and  Jacques  moved 
towards  the  door  to  return  to  his  place,  but  Mrs. 
Villars  invited  him  to  remain  in  their  box. 


AMERICAN  NOBILITY  145 

Annie  appeared  to  be  giving  all  her  attention  to  the 
play,  but  the  light  in  her  eyes,  the  expression  of  her 
whole  face,  and  the  slight  quivering  of  her  lips  betrayed 
sensations  which  Offenbach's  music  could  never  have 
produced.  Jacques'  glance  had  been  so  direct  and  so 
tender  that  it  had  given  her  the  most  delightful  joy, 
and  she  now  felt  proud  and  happy  to  be  under  his 
protection.  Within  the  limited  space  of  the  box,  his 
magnetism  acted  strongly  on  her  and,  for  the  first 
time,  she  was  conscious  that  there  was  a  bond  between 
them. 

She  did  not  turn  round  towards  him  until  the  end 
of  the  act  and  then  she  said,  in  a  voice  that  trembled 
slightly : 

"  Do  you  know  that  the  Duchess  is  going  to  Deau- 
ville  for  two  days  and  she  is  taking  Clara  and  me  with 
her?  She  wants  to  tempt  us  to  rent  a  villa  there  for 
the  season." 

"Oh,  I  warn  you  that  a  conspiracy  has  been 
organised  to  prevent  your  going  to  England,  and  I 
am  at  the  head  of  it,"  said  Jacques,  boldly. 

"  You !  "  exclaimed  Annie,  again  confused. 

"  Yes  I  am  to  spend  July  and  August  near  Trouville 
with  an  uncle,  and  I  shall  be  very  glad  if  you  are 
there.  Besides,  you  really  ought  to  see  Normandy. 
There  are  some  curious  little  towns  and  a  few  fine 
chateaux  to  visit.  The  suburbs  of  Trouville  and  Deau- 
ville  are  charming.  You  can  ride,  boat,  drive  the 
English  gig  that  Keradieu  will  not  let  you  drive  in 
the  Bois.  Then,  too,  you  can  torment  that  poor  Guy 
de  Nozay,  drive  the  Duke  de  Randan  to  despair,  and 
finish  by  converting  me  to  modernism." 

"  Finish  converting  you  in  two  months!  "  exclaimed 
Annie,  impulsively.    "  Why,  it  would  take  years." 


146  AMERICAN  NOBILITY 

As  soon  as  she  had  uttered  these  words,  she  realised 
what  they  might  signify  and  her  face  flushed  to  the 
roots  of  her  hair. 

"  Well,  let  it  take  years,"  said  eTacques,  half  joking 
and  half  in  earnest,  and  not  appearing  to  notice 
Annie's  embarrassment. 

"  Putting  my  selfishness  out  of  the  question,  though," 
he  continued,  "  it  seems  to  me  you  would  be  better 
at  Deauville,  in  July  and  August,  than  in  England. 
What  do  you  think,  Madame?"  he  asked,  turning  to 
Mrs.  Villars. 

"  Oh,  I  should  certainly  prefer  going  to  the  sea  to 
commencing  churches  and  picture  galleries  again." 

"  You  hear  that,"  said  Jacques,  triumphantly. 

"  Oh,  yes,  but  I  did  not  come  to  Europe  to  lead  the 
life  of  a  society  woman  and  waste  my  time  at  a  seaside 
place.  What  will  they  say  in  America  if  I  go  back 
without  having  seen  England  ?  " 

"  You  can  go  in  September." 

"And  what  about  Switzerland?" 

"  You  can  keep  that  for  another  time." 

"  I  would  rather  keep  to  the  plan  I  mapped  out.  I 
blame  myself  already  for  having  departed  from  it. 
W^e  were  to  start  for  London  the  last  week  in  May, 
and  Madame  de  Keradieu  persuaded  us  to  stay  for 
the  Grand  Prix.  Then  Mr.  Ottis's  sister  arrived  and 
Clara  wanted  to  stay  until  the  15th.  Now,  there  is 
this  question  of  Deauville  and  Antoinette  wants  us  to 
go  to  her  in  Touraine.  You  see  what  all  these  changes 
are  doing.  It  is  very  odd,  but  ever  since  I  have  been 
over  here,  I  do  not  do  what  I  had  decided  to  do,  or 
what  I  really  ought  to  do.  Some  one  or  something 
upsets  my  plans  all  the  time." 

"  I   feel   very   much   inclined   to   try  the  effect   of 


AMERICAN  NOBILITY  147 

suggestion  on  you,"  said  Jacques,  "  and  to  make  it 
impossible  for  you  to  go  away." 

"  Oh,  no ! "  exclaimed  Annie,  as  though  terror- 
stricken,  "  please  do  not." 

Jacques  feared  that  he  had  gone  too  far. 

"  Do  not  be  alarmed,"  he  said,  "  I  have  not  the 
*  power.'  Your  friendship  for  the  Keradieus  and  the 
beauty  of  Deauville  will  keep  you,  I  hope.  Own  now 
that  you  are  just  a  little  tempted  to  stay  with  us?  " 

"  I  am  very  much  tempted,"  replied  Annie,  with  her 
usual  candour. 

"That's  right." 

"  It  seems  to  me  that  it  is  wrong,"  said  Annie, 
slowly. 

"  Wrong  to  give  pleasure  to  your  friends  ?  " 

"  No,  but  to  let  one's  self  be  persuaded  like  this.  I 
really  believe  that  this  country  is  demoralising." 

During  this  conversation,  Catherine,  who  had  not 
understood  a  word  of  it,  had  been  observing  her  young 
mistress  and  the  Marquis.  Curiosity,  surprise,  and 
anxiety  could  have  been  read  on  her  face.  Jacques 
had  not  been  paying  any  attention  to  her,  but  he  sud- 
denly met  her  limpid  ej^es  fixed  full  on  him.  From 
the  hostile  expression  he  read  in  them,  he  realised  that 
the  good  woman  had  guessed  his  intentions.  He  felt 
slightly  embarrassed  and  feared  lest  she  might  put 
Annie  on  her  guard.  In  order  to  deceive  her,  he  at 
once  appeared  absolutely  indifferent  and,  noticing  this 
sudden  change  and  fearing  she  had  unintentionally 
vexed  him,  Annie  turned  to  him  several  times  and 
laughed  with  him  over  the  amusing  part  of  the 
play. 

After  the  curtain  fell,  Jacques  accompanied  Mrs. 
yillars   and   Annie   to   their   carriage.      Mrs.   Villars 


148  AMERICAN  NOBILITY 

thanked  him  warmly  and  Annie,  for  the  first  time, 
put  out  her  hand  voluntarily  to  him. 
He  clasped  it  warmly  and  said  to  her : 
"  Let  the  decision  about  Deauvllle  be  satisfactory." 
Jacques  went  away  feeling  happy  and  almost  tri- 
umphant. He  walked  home  thinking  over  the  various 
incidents  of  the  evening.  Providence  was  certainly 
with  him.  There  could  be  no  doubt  about  that.  The 
circumstance  of  the  box  had  been  most  useful  to  him. 
Then  he  had  been,  as  it  were,  inspired  to  make  a  sort 
of  declaration  to  Annie.  His  words  had  caused  her 
a  certain  emotion,  but  had  not  alarmed  her.  In  her 
limpid  eyes,  he  had  seen  that  special  gleam  which  he 
knew  well  and  which  is  only  caused  by  love.  He  had 
felt  distinctly  that  she  was  in  his  power.  He  was 
sure  that  she  would  not  go  away,  and  if  she  went  to 
Deauville,  it  meant  victory.  He  felt  certain  now,  for 
the  first  time,  that  this  marriage  was  to  be. 

He  did  not  care  to  go  to  his  club  with  the  deep 
joy  in  his  heart  that  he  now  felt.  In  order  that  it 
should  last  longer,  and  that  he  could  more  thoroughly 
appreciate  it,  he  turned  homewards  and,  whilst  smok- 
ing an  exquisite  cigar,  began  once  more  the  dreams  of 
happiness  and  fortune  from  which  he  had  so  ofteu 
been  abruptly  roused. 

•  •  •  •  •  •  • 

Clara  arrived  at  the  hotel  before  her  aunt  and  cousiil 
and  was  surprised  to  find  them  out. 

"  Well,"  she  said,  when  they  returned,  "  and  so  you 
take  advantage  of  my  absence  for  going  to  the  little 
theatres ! " 

"  Oh,  we  have  had  quite  enough  of  them,  I  can 
assure  you,"  replied  Mrs.  Villars,  telling  what  had 
happened. 


AMERICAN  NOBILITY  149 

"  Why,  it  was  quite  an  adventure,  and  to  think  that 
I  missed  it !  1  should  like  to  have  seen  the  '  Van 
Dyck's '  face  when  he  discovered  you  in  a  private  box 
with  the  screen  up." 

"  He  was  very  useful,  I  can  assure  you,"  said  Mrs. 
Villars.  "  If  he  had  not  been  there,  we  should  prob- 
ably have  been  followed  home,  for  it  is  quite  certain 
that  Annie  was  taken  for  a  demi-mondaine  or  some- 
thing of  that  sort." 

"  It  is  lucky  for  you  that  Monsieur  d'Anguilhon  did 
not  call  out  your  admirer,  Annie.  You  might  have 
fallen  in  love  with  him  and  offered  him  your  hand  and 
your  money.  It  is  true  that  he  is  in  love  with  the 
Duchess,  though." 

Annie  was  standing  up  and  her  face  was  hidden  by 
the  lamp-shade,  so  that  her  cousin  did  not  see  the 
fleeting  emotion  which  her  little  speech  caused. 

''  In  love  with  the  Duchess  ? "  repeated  Annie. 
"Who  told  you  so?" 

"  No  one.     It  is  easy  enough  to  see  it,  though." 

Annie  made  no  further  remark.  She  drank  half  a 
glass  of  champagne  and,  without  touching  the  rest  of 
the  little  supper  she  had  ordered,  she  went  to  her  room 
on  the  plea  of  a  headache. 

While  helping  her  to  undress,  Catherine  was  watch- 
ing her.  She  brushed  her  hair  silently  for  a  few 
minutes  and  then,  looking  at  her  in  the  glass,  she 
suddenly  said : 

"  Miss  Annie,  Mr.  Frank  is  much  better  than  that 
Marquis  who  came  into  your  box  to-night." 

"  What  connection  is  there  between  Mr.  Frank  and 
Monsieur  d'Anguilhon  ?  "  she  asked,  in  a  cold,  distant 
way,  turning  very  red. 

"  None." 


150  AMERICAN  NOBILITY 

Makay  was  oflFended  and  she  went  on  plaiting  her 
young  mistress's  hair  in  a  vigorous  way. 

Annie  did  not  ask  for  any  further  explanation  and 
her  toilette  was  finished  in  sulky  silence.  In  order  to 
get  rid  of  Catherine  as  quickly  as  possible,  she  did 
not  make  peace  with  her,  but  just  dismissed  her  with 
a  curt  "  Good-night." 

In  love  with  the  Duchess  and  it  was  easy  enough  for 
any  one  to  see  it!  As  soon  as  Annie  was  alone  and 
in  bed,  she  kept  repeating  this  phrase  which  had 
affected  her  so  deeply.  With  her  hands  behind  her 
head,  her  eyebrows  knit,  and  a  fixed  gaze  in  her  eyes, 
she  made  an  effort  to  see  for  herself.  The  Marquis 
certainly  seemed  to  be  very  intimate  with  Madame  de 
Blanzac.  It  was  not  surprising  though,  for  they  had 
been  friends  from  childhood.  He  admired  her  and  was 
very  devoted  to  her,  just  as  the  Viscount  de  Nozay 
was  and  indeed  all  those  who  came  into  contact  with 
her.  No,  there  was  nothing  in  his  manner  to  make 
any  one  suppose  that  he  was  in  love,  or  even  that 
there  was  any  flirtation  between  them.  Then,  too,  the 
Duchess  was  free  and  rich.  If  he  were  in  love  with 
her,  would  he  not  have  married  her? 

"  Clara  must  have  been  dreaming,"  she  said  to  herself, 
and  then  Makay's  words  came  back  to  her  mind  and 
troubled  her  again.  For  some  time,  the  Marquis  had 
seemed  keenly  interested  in  all  that  she  did.  He 
talked  to  her  a  great  deal,  asked  her  about  America 
and  about  her  friends  there.  He  had  said,  several 
times,  liow  sorry  he  should  be  when  she  left  and  he 
had  begged  her  to  stay  until  the  Duchess  and  the 
Keradieus  left  Paris.  She  had  almost  promised  to  do 
so  and  now  he  was  trying  to  persuade  her  to  spend 
the  summer  in  Normandy,  and  he  had  openly  expressed 


AMERICAN  NOBILITY  151 

his  hope  to  meet  her  there.  That  evening,  at  the 
theatre,  he  had  acted  as  though  Annie  had  been  his 
own  sister  or  the  Duchess  herself.  And  he  had  kept 
his  eyes  fixed  on  her  all  the  time  and  it  must  have 
looked  as  though  he  were  saying  all  sorts  of  things 
to  her,  since  Catherine  had  thought  he  was  making 
love  to  her. 

How  had  it  all  come  about?  Annie  began  to  ex- 
amine her  own  conduct.  She  had  never  flirted  with 
the  Marquis,  as  she  would  not  have  dared  to  do  so, 
but  she  had  allowed  him  to  see  that  she  liked  him 
and  that  his  attentions  were  not  disagreeable  to  her! 
This  Was  a  mistake,  as  Heaven  knew  what  he  had 
imagined  from  this.  If  she  stayed  on  in  Paris  and 
then  went  to  Deauville,  he  would  consider  that  she  was 
encouraging  him.  Then,  too,  she  would  meet  him  daily, 
and  their  intimacy,  which  was  already  too  great,  would 
increase,  and  perhaps,  in  the  end,  he  would  propose 
to  her. 

This  idea,  which  occurred  to  her  now  for  the  first 
time,  caused  her  a  shock  and  inspired  her  with  an 
instinctive  dread.  Supposing  that  he  did  propose !  It 
would  be  terrible  to  have  to  refuse  him.  Could  she 
refuse  him?  Annie  thought  of  him  with  his  golden 
brown  eyes  and  then  of  the  portrait  at  Versailles,  and 
her  heart  sank  within  her. 

She  must  go  away  at  once.  That  would  be  the  most 
straightforward  course.  Monsieur  d'Anguilhon  would 
come  to  America  next  year,  as  he  had  promised,  and 
she  would  do  the  honours  of  New  York  and  introduce 
him  everywhere.  Their  friendship  would  not  be  broken 
in  this  way  and  they  would  both  have  pleasant  mem- 
ories. Yes,  that  was  decided.  She  would  just  go  to 
Deauville  with  the  Duchess  and  the  Keradieus.    That 


162  AMERICAN  NOBILITY 

would  pledge  her  to  nothing,  but  she  would  not  allow 
herself  to  be  persuaded  into  renting  a  villa  there  and, 
on  the  fifteenth,  without  fail,  she  would  leave  Paris. 

The  heroic  resolution  did  not  suffice  for  restoring 
Annie's  tranquillity  of  mind.  She  lay  awake  until 
daybreak,  torn  by  conflicting  feelings  among  which 
was  a  latent  joy. 


CHAPTER  XV 

The  Duchess  de  Blanzac  owned  a  large  Norman 
cottage  at  Deauville.  It  was  a  delightful  abode,  with 
its  flower-grown  roof,  and  everything  had  been  arranged 
in  order  to  give  to  its  inhabitants  a  sensation  of  re- 
pose, of  freshness,  and  of  comfort.  Christiane  usually 
spent  the  months  of  July,  August,  and  September 
there.  Petit-Port  was  her  favourite  residence.  She 
had  created  it  and  it  was  her  very  own.  She  felt 
more  at  home  there  than  in  her  own  town  house  in 
the  Rue  de  Varenne,  or  than  at  the  Cha.teau  de  Blanzac, 
which  she  knew  she  would  have  to  give  up,  sooner  or 
later,  to  her  husband's  heir. 

Christiane  was  in  the  habit  of  going  to  Normandy, 
in  order  to  retire  from  the  world,  not  by  any  means 
in  a  religious  sense,  but  in  the  sense  of  an  intelligent 
and  idealistic  society  woman.  For  the  time  being,  she 
was  then  able  to  dispense  with  any  fashionable  style 
of  dress  which  was  inconvenient  to  wear  and  also  to 
avoid  doubtful  friends  and  uninteresting  people.  She 
lived  just  as  she  liked  when  there,  outdoors  a  great 
deal,  and  very  much  alone. 

She  was  neither  to  be  seen  at  the  races,  nor  at  the 
Casino,  but  she  might  be  met  early  in  the  morning  by 
the  seashore,  or  out  in  the  fields,  gathering  wild  flowers, 
or  driving  a  dog-cart,  escorted  by  her  dogs. 

The  four  spare  rooms  at  Petit-Port  were  always 

153 


154  AMERICAN  NOBILITY 

occupied.  As  her  uncle,  the  Count  de  Creil,  was  there 
with  her,  she  was  able  to  invite  whom  she  liked  and 
she  only  chose  people  for  whom  she  really  cared  and 
whose  friendship  she  had  proved. 

The  Prince  de  Nolles,  Guy  de  Nozay,  and  Dr.  Moreau 
were  among  the  favoured  few.  Count  Louis  de  Chal- 
lans,  her  husband's  heir,  usually  spent  his  holidays  at 
Deauville  and  Christiane  treated  him  like  a  younger 
brother.  She  appreciated  his  youth  and  gaiety  and 
she  considered  it  her  duty  to  watch  over  him  and  help 
him  to  prepare  for  the  responsible  position  he  would 
some  day  hold. 

By  persuading  the  three  Americans  to  come  to  Deau- 
ville for  the  season,  the  Duchess  knew  she  would  have 
to  sacrifice  her  quiet  time,  and  this  was  a  very  real 
sacrifice.  She  felt  the  necessity  of  keeping  Annie  a 
little  longer  in  France  and  so  she  did  not  hesitate. 
Under  the  pretext  of  some  repairs,  to  which  she  had 
to  attend,  she  invited  the  Keradieus  and  the  two  girls 
to  go  with  her  to  Normandy  and  the  little  excursion 
was  arranged. 

Annie  started  with  the  firm  intention  of  keeping  to 
her  decision,  but  her  strength  of  mind  was  put  to  the 
test.  The  sight  of  the  sea,  which  she  loved  dearly, 
and  the  gay  beauty  of  the  Norman  coast  tempted  her 
at  once.  Christiane  took  her  to  visit  the  Duke  of 
Chilhac-Talbret's  villa,  which  was  to  let.  It  was  like 
a  nest,  in  the  midst  of  verdure  and  flowers.  Every- 
thing there  had  been  carefully  thought  out  and 
arranged  by  a  nobleman  who  was  an  artist.  She 
also  showed  her  a  pretty  yacht,  the  Sans-Souci,  at 
anchor  in  Trouville  harbour,  and  this  was  also  for 
hire.  Monsieur  de  Keradieu  was  eloquent  in  proving 
to  her  that  the  season  at  Deauville  was  absolutely 


AMERICAN  NOBILITY  155 

necessary  after  the  Paris  season.  He  held  out  the 
most  tempting  programme.  There  would  be  sea-bath- 
ing, boating,  fishing  excursions,  races,  polo,  tennis, 
and  the  Casino.  Clara  was  delighted  at  the  prospect 
of  so  much  gaiety  and  expressed  a  great  desire  to 
spend  a  few  weeks  in  Normandy. 

Annie  was  very  firm  though,  and  declared,  in  her 
most  decided  tone,  that  she  had  had  enough  entertain- 
ment and  that  she  was  anxious  to  continue  her  travels, 
without  any  further  delay.  Madame  de  Blanzac  fancied 
that  her  suspicions  had  been  aroused  and  so  did  not 
insist. 

Jacques  was  informed  of  all  this  by  the  Duchess, 
so  that  when  Annie  told  him  of  her  decision,  he  was 
prepared.  He  merely  expressed  his  regret  in  a  polite 
manner,  but  his  face  took  such  a  cold,  haughty  look 
that  she  felt  immediately  the  distance  between  them, 
and  it  gave  her  a  pang. 

The  following  week  was  one  of  the  most  disagreeable 
ones  she  had  ever  spent.  In  spite  of  Madame  de 
Keradieu's  warning,  she  had  not  been  able  to  refrain 
from  flirting  a  little  with  the  Duke  de  Randan.  The 
young  man,  considering  that  he  had  been  sufficiently 
encouraged,  proposed  to  her.  She,  of  course,  refused 
him  and  Guy  de  Nozay,  sympathising  with  his  friend, 
was  very  cool  to  her.  The  Keradieus  were  also  greatly 
annoyed  with  her  and  the  Duchess  was  the  only  one 
who  treated  her  in  the  same  way  as  before.  Like  a 
child  in  disgrace,  Annie  accordingly  took  refuge  with 
her. 

Catherine's  words  had  given  her  a  panic,  but  she 
gradually  recovered  from  the  efifect  of  them  and  finally 
l^)ersuaded  herself  that  the  Marquis  had  never  thought 
of  making  love  to  her.     It  was  only  natural  that,  with 


156  AMERICAN  NOBILITY 

the  pood  friendship  that  existed  between  them,  he 
would  have  liked  the  idea  of  meeting  her  again  in 
Normandy  and  she  was  sorry  to  disappoint  him. 

Jacques,  on  his  side,  had  suffered  cruelly.  He  was 
greatly  discouraged  to  find  that  Annie  preferred  going 
away.  He  wondered  whether  it  might  not  be  better 
to  risk  everything  and  follow  her  to  England,  or 
whether  he  would  wait  till  she  came  to  stay  with 
the  Keradieus  in  Touraine,  in  September.  He  rather 
feared  the  effect  of  the  two  months  of  absence.  Then, 
too,  he  did  not  feel  capable  of  enduring  the  enervating 
uncertainty  for  so  long  a  time. 

Besides  all  this,  his  uncle  was  still  trying  to  obtain 
a  post  for  him  in  the  exploring  expedition  which  was 
being  organised,  and  this  might  be  decided  any  day. 

He  would  then  have  to  accept  or  refuse  promptly. 
The  Duchess  simply  told  him  to  wait  and  let  things 
settle  themselves. 

In  dealing  with  the  destinies  of  men,  Providence 
sometimes  delights  in  complicating  matters  and  then 
in  arranging  everything  again,  by  means  of  an  appar- 
ently trivial  incident  which  leads  to  a  decisive  result. 
This  proved  to  be  the  case  for  Jacques  and  Annie. 

Mrs.  Villars  took  cold  at  a  little  fMe,  given  by  one 
of  her  countrywomen,  on  the  little  island  in  the  Bois 
de  Boulogne.  The  following  day,  she  was  extremely 
feverish  and  had  all  the  symptoms  of  a  bad  attack  of 
influenza.  She  was  obliged  to  stay  in  bed  for  a  fort- 
night, after  which  her  doctor  would  not  hear  of  her 
going  to  England  and  prescribed  a  long  stay  at  the 
sea.  On  hearing  this,  Annie's  heart  grew  lighter  and  she 
had  a  sudden  feeling  of  relief  and  of  great  happiness. 

When  the  Marquis  called  to  enquire  after  Mrs. 
Villars,  as  he  did  every  day,  Annie  informed  him  of 


AMERICAN  NOBILITY  157 

the  change  in  their  plans.  He  had  some  diflBculty  in 
concealing  the  joy  he  felt. 

"  You  must  be  very  much  disappointed,"  he  said, 
rather  coldly. 

"  No,  not  at  all,"  she  answered.  "  On  the  contrary, 
I  am  delighted  to  be  obliged  to  spend  six  weeks  more 
in  France." 

"Really?" 

"  Yes,  really,"  answered  Annie,  with  a  little  laugh 
that  betrayed  her  emotion. 

"  So  much  the  better,"  said  Jacques.  His  features 
relaxed  and  the  expression  Annie  liked  came  once 
more  into  his  eyes.  He  held  out  his  hand  and  she 
felt  that  they  had  made  their  peace. 


CHAPTER  XVI 

Mrs.  Villars,  Annie,  and  Clara  had  been  settled  for 
a  month  in  the  Villa  de  Chilhac-Talbret  and  the  Ameri- 
can flag  floated,  side  by  side  with  the  French  one,  on 
the  mast  of  the  Sans-Souci,  which  they  had  hired  for 
the  season. 

They  had  become  the  centre  of  a  very  gay  circle, 
composed  of  the  Keradieus,  who  were  their  guests,  the 
Duchess  de  Blanzac,  the  Marquis  d'Anguilhon,  the 
Viscount  de  Nozay,  Count  Louis  de  Challans,  and  a 
few  American  friends  who  were  staying  at  Trouville. 
They  gave  luncheons,  dinners,  organised  excursions  of 
all  kinds  and,  by  their  frequent  invitations,  en- 
deavoured to  return  all  the  hospitality  they  had 
accepted  in  Paris.  Mrs.  Villars  was  getting  gradually 
stronger  again  and,  during  her  convalescence,  Madame 
de  Keradieu  chaperoned  the  two  girls. 

In  order  to  be  nearer  Deauville,  .Tacques  took  up 
his  abode  at  Roches-Noires  and  contented  himself  with 
putting  in  an  appearance  every  day  at  La  Bluette, 
the  residence  of  his  uncle  de  Froissy.  He  spent  some 
hours  each  day  in  Annie's  company.  Life  at  the  sea- 
side, with  all  the  boating,  driving,  and  yachting  ex- 
cursions, helped  them  to  know  each  other  better.  They 
seemed  to  be  irresistibly  attracted  by  each  other  and 
tliey  never  failed  to  find  themselves  together. 

The  Marquis  d'Anguilhon  was  more  seriously  in  love 

t58 


AMERICAN  NOBILITY  169 

than  he  would  have  thought  possible  some  little  time 
previously.  In  society,  he  had  often  seen  Annie  to 
her  disadvantage.  Her  naturalness  and  her  sincerity 
had  frequently  made  her  appear  hard  and  stiff,  whilst 
her  style  of  dress  made  her  look  like  a  married  woman. 
At  Deauville,  she  was  to  be  seen  in  a  setting  that 
suited  her  better  and  he  was  able  to  appreciate  her 
both  physically  and  morally.  The  sun  and  the  out- 
door life  showed  up  the  clearness  of  her  complexion, 
her  limpid  eyes,  and  all  the  freshness  and  beauty  of 
her  youth.  He  liked  to  see  her  in  her  simple  serge 
or  linen  costumes  and  her  sailor  hat.  During  their 
excursions,  he  had  an  opportunity  of  admiring  her 
coolness  and  tranquillity  in  the  face  of  danger.  When 
talking  to  her,  he  found  sometimes  that  her  matter^ 
of-factness  clashed.  He  could  see  the  limitations  of 
her  mind  and,  over  and  over  again,  he  realised  her 
inability  to  enter  into  the  domain  of  speculative 
thought  and  of  poetry.  He  remembered  what  the 
Duchess  had  told  him  and  decided  that  they  would 
have  to  carry  on  their  love  affairs  in  prose.  He  con- 
soled himself  with  the  thought  that  they  would  be  less 
likely  to  strike  false  notes  and  to  be  bored. 

It  is  more  difficult  for  an  heiress  to  make  people 
forget  her  wealth  than  for  a  poor  girl  to  make  them 
forget  her  poverty.  Annie  had  succeeded  in  making 
Jacques  forget,  so  that,  at  present,  he  thought  less 
about  her  money  than  about  her  good  qualities,  and 
his  wish  to  marry  her  was  as  free  from  any  sordid 
motive  as  it  is  humanly  possible  for  such  a  wish  to  be. 

As  to  Annie,  her  face  now  beamed  with  the  reflection 
of  the  divine  sentiment.  Love  had  germinated  within 
her  and  it  was  a  love  of  the  highest  kind,  simple,  de- 
voted, and  generous.     She  gave  herself  up  without  any 


100  AMERICAN  NOBILITY 

resistance,  scruple,  or  fear,  to  this  new  happiness  which 
had  been  granted  her,  and  such  a  fulness  of  life  de- 
veloped within  her,  such  an  inward  expansion,  that 
she  often  said  to  herself  that  she  had  never  been  so 
happy.  Every  morning  she  woke  with  the  joyful 
thought  that  she  should  soon  see  the  Marquis  d'An- 
guilhon  and,  every  evening,  under  her  closed  eyelids, 
she  could  see  his  delicately  chiselled  profile,  his  tender 
gaze,  and  she  had  a  crowd  of  delightful  impressions. 
When  he  was  not  there,  she  felt  alone.  It  was  as 
though  her  mother,  Clara,  and  her  other  friends 
no  longer  existed,  as  he  was  responsible  now  for  her 
joy  or  sorrow.  Like  most  American  women,  Annie 
had,  hitherto,  had  very  little  reverence  for  men. 
She  had  seen  her  father  a  slave  to  her  mother  and 
all  the  young  men  she  knew  had  been  her  most  humble 
and  devoted  servitors.  The  Marquis  had  revealed  him- 
self as  a  master.  He  had  inspired  her  with  respect 
and  this  respect  had  been  the  beginning  of  love.  In 
her  intercourse  with  him,  she  was  neither  capricious 
nor  coquettish,  as  she  was  usually  in  her  flirtations. 
She  consulted  his  tastes  and  tried  to  please  him.  If 
she  saw  that  he  looked  gloomy,  she  made  special  efforts 
to  be  more  pleasant  and  all  this  without  seeing  that 
she  no  longer  had  any  will  of  her  own.  She  was 
grateful  for  the  most  trifling  attentions.  The  simple 
flowers  that  Jacques  gave  her  from  time  to  time 
afforded  her  much  more  pleasure  than  Frank  Barnett's 
costly  bouquets.  The  Marquis  had  not  yet  told  her  in 
words  that  he  loved  her,  but  he  had  made  her  under- 
stand that  he  did.  Several  times,  she  had  thought  he 
was  just  going  to  tell  her  and  then  he  had  suddenly 
changed  the  subject  of  the  conversation  and  she  had 
felt  disappointed. 


AMERICAN  NOBILITY  161 

Annie's  intercourse  with  the  Marquis  d'Anguilhon 
seemed  to  be  on  such  strictly  friendly  lines,  that  the 
Keradieus  did  not  guess  the  truth  for  a  long  time. 
When  they  did  discover  how  matters  stood,  they  were 
secretly  delighted  at  their  friend's  good  luck.  One 
fine  day,  Guy  de  Nozay  suddenly  became  aware  of  the 
same  thing,  and  it  literally  made  his  eye-glass  drop 
from  its  orbit.  On  discovering  that  this  American 
girl  was  in  love  with  his  best  friend,  he  felt  such  keen 
satisfaction,  that  he  might  have  been  triumphing  him- 
self. Mrs.  Villars  and  Clara  were  the  only  persons 
who  had  no  suspicion  of  the  truth.  In  the  first  place, 
Clara  believed  that  the  Marquis  was  in  love  with  the 
Duchess  de  Blanzac.  Then,  too,  she  was  on  another 
false  track,  for  she  fancied  that  they  had  been  invited 
to  Deauville,  so  that  Louis  de  Challans  might  have  a 
chance  of  marrying  Annie.  She  thought  she  had 
guessed  the  secret  of  the  Duchess's  friendliness  to 
them  and  she  congratulated  herself  on  her  own  per- 
spicacity. In  order  to  pay  the  Duchess  back  in  her 
own  coin,  she  was  specially  agreeable  to  the  young 
man  and  monopolised  him  without  any  difficulty. 
Meanwhile  she  was,  unconsciously,  giving  Jacques 
opportunities  of  which  he  did  not  fail  to  make  use. 

An  Irishwoman,  no  matter  to  what  class  she  may 
belong,  is  quick  to  recognise  love,  and  all  the  more 
so  when  she  has  been  in  love  herself,  as  Bonne  had. 
From  the  very  first,  she  had  seen  that  Annie  cared 
for  the  Marquis  and  she  had  felt  sure  that  her  young 
mistress  would  marry  this  Frenchman.  She  kept 
thinking  of  the  grief  of  Annie's  two  aunts  and  of 
Frank  Barnett  and  of  all  the  unpleasant  consequences 
of  this  marriage.  She  wondered,  with  almost  maternal 
anguish,  whether  this  foreigner  were  really  in  love 


162  AMERICAN  NOBILITY 

with  Annie,  or  whether  her  wealth  had  tempted  him. 
She  had  watched  him  when  he  was  talking  to  her 
young  mistress  and  had  tried  to  read  something  from 
the  expression  of  his  face.  She  had  felt  somewhat 
reassured  and  had  said  to  herself  that,  at  any  rate, 
he  "  looked  like  a  gentleman."  As  she  felt  sure  that 
nothing  could  save  Annie  now,  she  consoled  herself 
by  praying  for  her  and  committing  her  to  the  care 
of  all  the  saints  in  Paradise. 

Christiane  felt  that  her  task  was  nearly  at  an  end 
and  she  was  very  glad  of  it.  Her  nerves  seemed  over- 
strained and  her  humour  was  beginning  to  feel  the 
effects  of  this.  She  had  a  great  weight  on  her  mind 
all  the  time  and  anguish  in  the  depths  of  her  soul. 
She  attributed  all  this  mental  uneasiness  to  the  con- 
stant anxiety  which  Jacques'  marriage  had  caused  her 
and  to  the  irritation  she  had  experienced  in  not  being 
able  to  enjoy  her  beloved  Petit-Port  in  peace,  as  was 
her  custom.  She  longed  to  be  alone  and  had  a  curious 
wish  to  go  away  and  hide  herself  somewhere.  She 
hoped  that  when  once  Jacques  and  Annie  were  en- 
gaged, they  would  go  away  from  Deauville.  If  the 
engagement  took  place  before  the  end  of  August,  she 
would  then  have  a  whole  month  of  rest  and  peace. 
She  had  had  long  talks  with  Annie  and  such  was  her 
irresistible  charm,  when  she  took  the  trouble  to  be 
charming,  that,  as  a  result  of  these  talks,  she  now 
had  great  influence  with  the  young  girl.  She  had  over- 
come many  of  Annie's  prejudices  about  Europeans,  and 
had  proved  to  her  that  in  no  other  country  does  the 
married  woman  hold  as  high  a  position  and  wield  such 
influence  as  in  France.  Christiane  told  her  the  his- 
tory of  many  of  the  old  families  of  the  Faubourg  St. 
Germain  and  aroused  her  curiosity  in  the  aristocracy. 


AMERICAN  NOBILITY  168 

She  frequently  spoke  to  her  of  the  Marquis  d'Anguilhon 
and  told  Annie  the  flattering  things  he  had  said  of 
her.  Whenever  she  touched  on  this  subject,  she 
noticed  that  the  girl  was  silent  and  that  she  had  to 
make  an  effort  in  order  not  to  betray  her  feelings. 

One  afternoon,  Jacques,  Monsieur  de  Keradieu,  and 
Guy  de  Nozay  had  gone  to  the  Havre,  Madame  de 
Keradieu,  Clara,  and  the  Count  de  Challans  on  a 
fishing  excursion,  and  Annie  had  decided  to  stay  at 
home.  Towards  four  o'clock,  the  Duchess  de  Blanzae 
called  to  take  her  for  a  drive  and  she  allowed  herself 
to  be  persuaded.  When  the  horses  were  on  the  Trou- 
ville  road,  Christiane  said : 

"  We  will  call  on  the  Countess  de  Froissy,  as  we 
pass.  I  want  to  invite  her  to  luncheon.  You  will 
see  what  a  delightful  old  lady  our  friend  has  for  a 
godmother." 

Annie's  face  flushed  slightly,  but  she  raised  no  objec- 
tion. The  idea  that  she  would  soon  be  in  the  presence 
of  one  of  Monsieur  d'Anguilhon's  relatives  caused  her 
joy,  not  unmingled  with  a  certain  dread,  and  she  could 
scarcely  listen  to  the  conversation  of  the  Duchess 
afterwards. 

Madame  de  Froissy  was  in  her  garden,  tending  her 
plants  and  shrubs.  She  received  her  visitors  with 
evident  pleasure  and  very  cordially.  After  Annie  had 
been  introduced  and  a  few  commonplaces  had  been 
exchanged,  they  all  three  walked  slowly  towards  the 
house. 

"  I  begin  to  think  that  you  and  Monsieur  de  Froissy 
are  forgetting  me.  I  have  not  seen  you  for  nearly 
three  weeks,"  said  Christiane. 

"  Yes,  we  are  getting  very  old  and  stay-at-home,  but 
you  may  be  very  sure,  my  dear,  that  we  do  not  forget 


164  AMERICAN  NOBILITY 

you.  We  hear  news  of  yon,  every  day,  from  Jacques. 
It  appears  that  Petit-Port  is  very  gay  this  year." 

"  Ah,  when  I  have  girls  as  neighbours,  and  American 
girls,  it  would  be  difficult  not  to  be  led  away,"  an- 
swered the  Duchess,  looking  at  Annie.  "  You  see, 
though,  that  our  dissipations  do  not  prevent  my 
noticing  the  rareness  of  your  visits.  I  came  to-day, 
in  the  first  place  to  scold  you  and  then  to  ask  you  if 
you  will  come  to  luncheon  to-morrow.  I  am  expecting 
General  de  Bussy.  He  can  only  spend  a  few  hours  at 
Deauville  and  I  thought  you  would  like  to  meet  him." 

"  Thanks  very  much.  Henri  will  certainly  accept, 
but  I  am  sorry  to  say  that  I  cannot.  My  sister-in-law 
has  just  arrived  and  I  could  not  leave  her  alone." 

"  The  Marchioness  is  here  ?  " 

"  Yes,  she  was  not  to  come  until  next  week,  but,  as 
my  husband  was  in  Paris  on  business,  he  brought  her 
back  with  him.  Jacques  will  be  surprised  to  find  her 
here  at  dinner-time  to-night." 

"  But  I  hope  that  she  will  give  me  the  pleasure  of 
coming  with  you  to-morrow?" 

"  Oh,  you  must  not  reckon  on  her,  my  dear.  She 
is  very  tired  and  then,  too,  she  is  in  great  trouble 
just  now.    You  know  what  Jacques  intends  doing?" 

"Yes,  I  only  heard  of  it  by  chance.  I  am  more 
grieved  then  I  can  tell  you,  but  I  cannot  blame 
him." 

"  Alas,  we  cannot  either.  My  sister-in-law  and  I 
were  hoping  that  Henri  would  not  succeed  in  getting 
the  post  for  him,  but  we  have  just  heard  that  Jacques' 
ofifer  is  accepted.  This  expedition  to  the  Upper  Niger 
is  to  be  under  the  command  of  a  Captain  Richard,  a 
man  whose  past  exploits  and  whose  character  inspire 
us  with  every  confidence.     We  are  quite  easy  on  that 


AMERICAN  NOBILITY  165 

score.  The  expedition  will  start  from  Bordeaux  at 
the  end  of  October." 

"  I  am  surprised,  though,  that  Monsieur  de  Froissy 
should  encourage  this  quixotic  madness.  It  is  a  great 
responsibility." 

The  Countess  sighed. 

"  Ah,  you  see  my  husband  has  adopted  modern  ideas," 
she  said.  "  He  is  indignant  to  see  the  young  men  of 
our  aristocracy  contenting  themselves  with  inferior 
rdles  in  the  world.  He  only  regrets  one  thing,  and 
that  is  that  a  d'Anguilhon  cannot  pay  the  expenses  of 
this  African  expedition.  He  assures  us  that  Jacques, 
with  his  fine  constitution,  will  come  back  again  safe 
and  sound,  and  that  the  hardships  will  make  a  man 
of  him.  All  that  is  possible,  and  even  probable,  but 
his  mother  and  I  would  prefer  seeing  him  marry  and 
we  would  rather  keep  him  here  just  as  he  is." 

"  How  will  his  mother  bear  the  separation  ?  "  asked 
Christiane. 

"  As  she  has  borne  so  many  other  trials,  with  the 
help  of  her  religion.  We  shall  try  and  get  her  to 
stay  with  us  during  her  son's  absence.  8h — here 
she  is." 

Annie  had  been  deeply  touched  by  what  she  had 
heard.  The  sight  of  the  Marchioness  coming  forward 
to  meet  them  increased  her  agitation. 

Madame  d'Anguilhon  kissed  the  Duchess  affection- 
ately and  asked  after  her  uncle  and  some  mutual 
friends.  During  this  time,  Annie  was  observing  her 
with  intense  curiosity.  Jacques'  mother  was  barely 
fifty-two  years  of  age.  Her  hair  was  still  thick  and 
waved  naturally.  She  had  a  high  forehead  and  regular 
features,  of  which  the  outline  was  bold  and  would 
have  been  somewhat  hard,  but  that  the  whole  face 


166  AMERICAN  NOBILITY 

was  softened  by  magnificent  dark  eyes,  which  were 
very  kind  and  very  sad-looking.  There  was  a  sort  of 
grandeur  about  her  whole  person,  an  irresistible  charm, 
due  to  all  that  is  best  in  the  human  soul. 

The  Duchess  then  introduced  Annie,  adding  that  she 
was  a  relative  of  Madame  de  Keradieu's,  that  she  had 
been  spending  the  winter  in  Paris,  and  that  she  was 
now  living  near,  at  the  Villa  de  Chilhac. 

Madame  d'Anguilhon  at  once  held  out  her  hand  to 
Annie. 

"  My  son  has  often  spoken  to  me  of  you  and  your 
family,  Miss  Villars,  and  I  am  delighted  to  make  your 
acquaintance." 

The  colour  came  into  Annie's  face  and  she  stam- 
mered out  a  few  unintelligible  words.  Madame  d'An- 
guilhon  thought  she  was  timid  and  endeavoured  to 
put  her  at  her  ease.  She  asked  her  about  her  im- 
pressions of  Europe  and  questioned  her  about  her  own 
country.  The  conversation  became  quite  animated 
and,  when  Annie  felt  that  the  ice  was  broken  be- 
tween the  Marchioness  and  herself,  joy  took  possession 
of  her  and  she  was  intensely  happy  walking  by  the 
side  of  Jacques'  mother  and  keeping  in  step  with  her. 

Whilst  talking,  Annie  was  observing  her  and  won- 
dering how  it  came  about  that  she  looked  so  elegant, 
as  it  certainly  was  not  owing  to  her  dress.  She  real- 
ised, too,  all  that  Jacques'  absence  would  mean  to  his 
mother  and,  out  of  sheer  pity  for  her,  she  felt  tempted 
to  say  to  her :     "  He  will  not  go,  after  all." 

Madame  d'Anguilhon  was  also  observing  Annie  with 
increasing  interest.  She  admired  her  hair,  glinting 
with  gold,  her  clear  complexion,  her  small,  brilliant 
teeth.  She  was  still  more  attracted  by  the  simple 
charm  that  seemed  to  emanate  from  her  and,  already 


AMERICAN  NOBILITY  1«7 

uuder  the  influence  of  what  was  going  to  happen,  she 
said  to  herself  that  she  liked  this  girl  better  than  any 
foreigner  she  had  yet  met. 

Monsieur  de  Froissy  soon  made  his  appearance  and 
took  them  all  to  the  verandah.  Tea  was  served  there 
and  the  conversation  soon  became  general.  Annie  was 
not  long  in  feeling  at  ease  with  these  kindly,  courteous 
people.  The  Count  was  most  attentive  to  her,  his  wife 
asked  her  to  come  again,  and  Jacques'  mother  told  her 
that  she  hoped  she  would  have  the  pleasure  of  meeting 
her  again.  The  agreeable  impression  she  had  received 
during  this  visit  did  not  in  the  least  console  her  for 
the  grief  which  she  now  felt  about  Jacques'  plan  of 
going  to  Africa. 

On  leaving  the  Villa,  Madame  de  Blanzac  proposed 
that  they  should  walk  a  little  way  and,  as  Annie 
agreed,  she  gave  orders  to  the  coachman  to  follow 
them.  For  a  little  time,  they  were  both  silent. 
Christiane  was  thinking  over  the  dramatic  little  scene 
she  had  just  witnessed.  She  had  not  arranged  it  at 
all  and  was,  in  fact,  quite  Innocent.  On  receiving 
General  de  Bussy's  letter,  the  idea  had  come  to  her 
mind,  or  rather  had  been  put  into  her  mind,  to  invite 
Monsieur  and  Madame  de  Froissy. 

"  Are  we  then  inferior  beings  and  have  we  no  free- 
will ?  "  she  asked  herself.  She  dismissed  the  question 
from  her  mind  and  looked  at  Annie.  From  the  serious, 
drawn  look  on  the  girl's  face,  she  understood  that  the 
blow  had  carried  and  that  she  was  longing  for  an 
opportunity  to  speak  of  Jacques. 

"What  do  you  think  of  Madame  d'Anguilhon  ? " 
asked  Christiane,  by  way  of  helping  her. 

"  She  is  very  beautiful  and  very  interesting,"  replied 
Annie,  warmly. 


168  AMERICAN  NOBILITY 

"  Oh,  she  is  a  grande  dame,  in  the  full  sense  of  that 
term.  She  is  as  good  as  any  saint.  Her  son  simply 
adores  her.  Poor  woman,  what  a  grief  for  her  if  he 
should  really  go ! " 

"  Has  the  Marquis  suddenly  thought  of  this  explora- 
tion ?  "  asked  Annie  in  an  unsteady  voice. 

"  No,  he  has  been  thinking  of  it  for  about  a 
year." 

Annie  felt  a  sudden  relief  on  hearing  that  the  plan 
dated  so  far  back. 

"  And — do  you  approve  of  it?  " 

"  There  is  nothing  else  left  for  him.  You  see  Monsieur 
d'Anguilhon  is  in  a  cruel  situation.  Various  events 
and  circumstances  have  deprived  him  of  his  patrimony. 
The  Chd,teau  de  Blonay,  one  of  the  finest  old  chateaux 
in  France,  was  sold  by  his  father.  Their  house  in  the 
Rue  de  Varenne  is  heavily  mortgaged,  so  that  he  only 
has  a  very  small  income.  He  can  neither  live  accord- 
ing to  his  rank,  nor  according  to  his  tastes.  I  can 
quite  understand  that  he  should  prefer  dragging  him- 
self right  away  to  contemplating  his  own  ruin.  If  he 
were  to  stay  in  Europe,  he  would  probably  put  an  end 
to  things  by  shooting  himself  some  day  when  he  felt 
desperate.  He  might  easily  marry  for  money,  of 
course,  as  titles  are  more  appreciated  than  ever,  in 
spite  of  all  people  say.  A  title  is  a  nice  thing  to  have, 
just  like  old  furniture  or  Gobelins  tapestry,  and  a 
woman  is  more  set  off  by  a  title  than  by  dress  or 
diamonds.  The  Marquis  could  find  ten  heiresses  as 
easily  as  one.  He  prefers  risking  death,  though,  in  the 
heart  of  Africa,  to  marrying  a  girl  he  could  not  love, 
or  one  whose  education  is  inferior  to  his." 

The  Duchess  suddenly  stopped  short  in  the  middle 
of  the  road. 


AMERICAN  NOBILITY  169 

"  Will  you  allow  me  to  speak  to  you  quite  frankly?  " 
she  asked,  turning  to  Annie. 

She  did  not  wait  for  a  reply,  but  continued,  whilst 
walking  slowly  on  again. 

"  Well,  ever  since  I  have  known  you,  I  have  wished 
that  the  Marquis  d'Anguilhon  might  marry  you." 

The  Duchess  did  not  say  that  Annie  might  marry 
the  Marquis,  as  she  wanted  to  establish  Jacques' 
superiority. 

"  He  is  in  love  with  you,  but  he  cannot  make  up 
his  mind  to  propose  to  you,  because  he  considers  that 
you  are  too  rich.  That  is  absurd,  because  although 
you  have  a  large  fortune,  he  has  a  name  that  is  his- 
torical, almost  royal,  and  it  would  place  you  in  the 
highest  rank  of  our  aristocracy.  It  really  would  be 
the  finest  marriage  imaginable,  a  good  social  position, 
money,  and  love.  There  would  be  all  the  elements  of 
happiness." 

"All?  No,  not  all,  for  we  are  not  of  the  same 
country,  nor  yet  of  the  same  religion." 

"  Where  there  is  love,  there  is  soon  perfect  harmony. 
Look  at  the  Keradieus.  Frenchmen  of  good  family, 
who  are  well  educated  and  men  of  principle  are  the 
most  delightful  husbands  in  the  world.  They  bring 
into  their  homes  wit,  intelligence,  a  certain  idealism, 
and  there  is  nothing  monotonous  about  them." 

"  Yes,  but  they  do  not  take  marriage  seriously 
enough,"  said  Annie,  betraying  the  fear  which  haunted 
her. 

"  You  mean  they  are  unfaithful,"  suggested  the 
Duchess,  with  a  smile.  "They  are  not  as  unfaithful 
as  they  pretend  to  be.  The  English  and  Italians  hide 
their  sins,  but  the  French  boast  of  theirs  and  even 
exaggerate  them,  thanks  to  a  sort  of  childish  vanity. 


170  AMERICAN  NOBILITY 

I  know  that  Americans  are  usually  model  husbands. 
Many  of  them,  though,  drink  or  have  a  passion  for 
speculation  and  simply  live  for  their  business.  Is  not 
ail  that  worse  than  unfaithfulness?" 

"  Nothing  could  be  worse  than  unfaithfulness," 
answered  Annie,  in  her  most  unbending  manner. 

"  How  very  young  you  are ! "  said  the  Duchess,  with 
a  touch  of  disdain.  "  To  return  to  Monsieur  d'An- 
guilhon,  I  am  quite  sure  that  he  would  make  you 
happy.  In  the  first  place,  he  is  very  much  in  love 
with  you,  and  then  adversity  has  mellowed  his  nature. 
You  would  be  able  to  help  him  to  restore  his  home, 
to  become  a  useful  man,  and  to  do  good  in  the  world. 
As  a  girl,  you  have  had  a  brilliant  existence,  as  a 
wife  you  would  have  a  still  more  brilliant  life,  and 
in  France  you  might  have  a  most  interesting  life  even. 
I  know  that  all  this  would  not  tempt  you,  if  you  did 
not  care  for  the  Marquis,  but  you  do  care  for  him. 
Is  not  that  so  ?  "  asked  the  Duchess  in  a  lower  tone, 
drawing  nearer  to  Annie. 

The  girl  blushed  violently  and,  completely  taken 
aback  by  this  bold  question,  could  not  answer  a  word. 

"  I  guessed  your  secret  a  long  time  ago,"  con- 
tinued Christiane,  calmly.  "  Will  you  authorise  me 
to  give  just  a  hint  of  encouragement  to  the  Marquis 
d'Anguilhon?" 

"  Oh,  no,  please  do  not,"  exclaimed  Annie,  in  distress. 

"  Well,  my  dear  child,  do  not  let  him  go  away. 
That  is  all  I  have  to  say  on  the  subject.  You  would 
regret  it  bitterly  and  all  your  life  long,  as  you  would 
be  an  old  maid.  After  him,  you  could  never  like 
another  man." 

The  Duchess  suddenly  stood  still  again  and  said, 
rather  abruptly: 


AMERICAN  NOBILITY  171 

"  Let  us  get  in  the  carriage  again  now,  shall  we?  " 

They  finished  their  drive  in  silence.  Every  now  and 
then  the  Duchess  glanced  at  Annie's  face  and  won- 
dered what  she  was  deciding.  Just  as  the  carriage 
was  driving  up  to  the  stone  steps,  in  front  of  the  Villa 
de  Chilhac,  she  laid  her  hand  on  Annie's,  clasped  it 
gently,  and  said  to  her : 

"  I  hope  you  will  soon  come  and  tell  me  that  you 
are  engaged,  so  that  I  can  congratulate  you.  It  will 
be  soon,  will  it  not?  Au  revoir,"  she  added,  nodding 
in  a  friendly  way  and  with  a  meaning  smile. 

Annie  went  straight  to  her  room  and,  when  once  she 
was  inside,  locked  the  door. 

The  Duchess  had  nailed  her  down  without  any  warn- 
ing, and  she  wanted  to  think  things  over.  She  did 
care  for  the  Marquis.  That  was  very  certain,  and  she 
was  so  much  in  love  that  she  was  neither  surprised 
nor  yet  rebellious.  The  Marquis  cared  for  her,  though, 
and  this  thought  made  her  intensely  proud  and  happy. 
Her  heart  sank  again  when  she  remembered  that  he 
considered  her  too  rich.  With  his  French  ideas,  he 
was  capable  of  an  exaggerated  delicacy  and  he  would, 
perhaps,  decide  to  go  to  Africa  rather  than  propose 
to  her. 

"  Do  not  let  him  go,"  Madame  de  Blanzac  had  said. 
"  You  would  regret  it  bitterly,  and  all  your  life  long, 
as  you  would  be  an  old  maid." 

Annie  had  an  instantaneous  vision  of  her  two 
unmarried  aunts. 

"  Heaven  preserve  me  from  ending  my  life  like  that ! " 
she  said,  instinctively. 

How  was  she  to  keep  Jacques  from  going  away,  she 
wondered.  She  could  not  very  well  ask  him  to  marry 
her.     She  would  not  have  had  any  difiSculty  in  making 


172  AMERICAN  NOBILITY 

an  American  man  do  anything  she  wanted,  but  it  was 
quite  a  different  thing  with  him.  However  she  decided 
that  she  would  see  what  she  could  do.  It  certainly 
would  be  strange,  she  thought,  if  she  were  to  marry 
a  descendant  of  that  Seigneur  de  Blonay,  whose  por- 
trait had  made  such  an  impression  on  her.  In  a  novel, 
such  a  thing  would  have  appeared  unlikely.  It  was 
only  in  Europe  that  such  things  could  happen.  Annie 
then  thought  of  her  cousin  and  a  mischievous  smile 
came  to  her  lips.  Clara  imagined  that  Monsieur  d'An- 
guilhon  was  in  love  with  the  Duchess  and  she  was 
religiously  watching  over  the  Count  de  Challans. 

The  thought  of  Frank  Barnett  then  crossed  the  girl's 
mind  and  troubled  her  a  little.  Poor  Frank,  what  a 
grief  it  would  be  for  him !  He  would,  of  course,  think 
that  she  had  fallen  into  one  of  the  traps  laid  for 
heiresses.  She  drew  herself  up  proudly.  Monsieur 
d'Anguilhon  was  neither  a  schemer  nor  an  adventurer. 
No  man  in  the  Faubourg  St.  Germain  was  of  better 
family.  She  would  be  able  to  introduce  this  foreign 
husband  of  hers  in  America.  How  she  would  be  en- 
vied! Annie  suddenly  remembered  that  the  Duchess 
was  a  woman  quite  capable  of  giving  her  "  little  hint 
of  encouragement "  to  the  Marquis,  in  spite  of  any 
injunction.  This  idea  caused  her  a  pang  of  anxiety 
at  first,  but  later  on  she  said  to  herself :  "  I  do  not 
care  what  happens,  provided  he  does  not  go  away." 


CHAPTER  XVII 

Christiane  was  not  inventing  when  she  told  Annie 
that  the  Marquis  d'Anguilhon  thought  her  too  rich. 
For  some  days  past,  she  had  been  urging  him  on  to 
propose  and  he  felt  himself  that  he  had  only  to 
speak  now,  in  order  to  see  his  dream  realised.  His 
pride,  dignity,  and  self-respect,  however,  now  kept 
him  silent.  He  had  never  thought  it  would  be  so 
painful  to  accept  wealth  from  a  woman.  His  pov- 
erty made  him  feel  that  he  was  in  an  inferior  posi- 
tion and  this  humiliated  him  profoundly.  The  idea 
that,  in  marrying,  he  would  have  to  reveal  the 
ruin  of  his  family  to  outsiders  wounded  his  self- 
respect.  His  business  transaction  with  Madame  de 
I^ne  now  caused  him  a  feeling  of  shame  that  em- 
bittered his  triumph.  When  he  met  Annie's  eyes,  full 
of  confidence  and  admiration,  he  felt  ill  at  ease  and 
he  was  sorry  not  to  be  the  faultless  nobleman  she 
believed  him  to  be.  Then,  too,  Jacques  belonged  to 
a  noble  race,  a  race  that  had  loved  danger  and  glory. 
The  heroism  in  his  nature  flamed  out  at  times,  so 
that,  even  while  paying  court  to  Annie,  he  could  not 
help  thinking  of  the  expedition  which  was  being 
organised.  Whenever  he  saw  anything  about  Africa 
in  the  paper,  he  experienced  a  painful  feeling  of  shame 
and  regret.  At  such  times,  he  was  tempted  to  give 
Annie  up  and  to  go  and  brave  death,  in  order  to 

173 


174  AMERICAN  NOBILITY 

conquer  something  which  might  add  to  his  heritage 
of  glory.  The  temptation  was  only  momentary,  but 
it. influenced  him  enough  to  make  him  postpone  speak- 
ing to  Annie. 

The  news  of  Captain  Richard's  arrival  in  Paris,  and 
an  urgent  letter  from  the  Duchess  which  he  found 
awaiting  hira  on  his  return  from  his  uncle's,  after 
hearing  there  of  Annie's  visit,  were  the  last  touches 
of  the  spur  given  to  him  by  Providence,  in  order 
to  send  him  on  in  the  path  he  was  destined  to 
follow. 

The  next  day,  Jacques  did  not  put  in  an  appearance 
at  Deauville  nor  yet  at  Trouville.  He  lunched  at  his 
uncle's  and  spent  the  afternoon  with  his  mother.  He 
then  returned  to  Roches-Noires  to  dress  and  dine. 
Towards  nine  o'clock,  he  set  out  for  the  Villa  de 
Chilhac,  determined  to  have  a  definite  understanding 
with  Annie. 

As  she  had  not  seen  him  all  day,  she  was  sure  that 
he  would  come  some  time  during  the  evening.  She 
was,  therefore,  expecting  him,  with  an  inward  agita- 
tion which  made  her  deaf  to  all  that  was  going  on 
around  her.  When  he  appeared,  her  heart  seemed  to 
leap  towards  him.  She  could  not  speak,  but  she  looked 
full  at  him,  as  though  to  let  him  read  her  thoughts. 
On  seeing  her  emotion,  Jacques  felt  sure  that  she  was 
fully  prepared  to  hear  what  he  had  to  say. 

He  had  never  seen  Annie  so  pretty  and  so  girlish- 
looking.  She  was  wearing  a  white  accordion-plaited 
dress,  trimmed  with  brownish,  cream  lace,  and  a  nar- 
row waistband  of  satin  ribbon.  Round  her  neck  she 
had  small  pearls  and,  in  her  bodice,  a  bunch  of  roses. 
As  it  happened  every  evening,  there  was  a  little  party 
of  neighbours  and  friends  assembled  in  the  drawing- 


AMERICAN  NOBILITY  175 

room.  It  was  very  warm  and  the  long  French  win- 
dows were  wide  open,  so  that  tea  and  coffee  could 
be  served  on  the  verandah.  The  Count  de  Challans 
was  singing  a  lively  song  at  the  piano  and  Clara  was 
turning  over  the  leaves  for  him. 

After  a  time,  the  Marquis  managed  to  get  Annie 
away  without  much  difficulty.  They  had  both  become 
quite  skilful  in  manoeuvring,  in  order  to  have  their 
little  conversations. 

There  was  no  sea  \'iew  from  the  Villa  itself,  so  that 
it  was  necessary  to  go  as  far  as  the  terrace,  which 
was  separated  from  the  park  by  a  clump  of  trees  and 
a  hedge  of  witch-elms.  The  way  to  this  terrace  was 
by  two  winding  paths.  It  was  there  that  Jacques 
meant  to  go  to  propose  to  Annie. 

"  What  a  happy  idea  Madame  de  Blanzac  had  to 
take  you  to  La  Bluette!"  he  said,  by  way  of  lead- 
ing up  to  his  subject.  "  You  have  quite  won  my 
uncle's  heart.  My  mother  and  aunt  think  you  are 
rather  like  Madame  de  Keradieu.  You  must  take  that 
as  a  compliment,  you  know,  as  they  are  so  fond  of 
her." 

"  Your  mother  was  most  kind  to  me,"  said  Annie. 
"  If  I  had  known  I  was  going  to  meet  her,  I  should 
have  been  quite  frightened " 

"Frightened?     But  why?" 

"  I  had  imagined  that  she  was  very  proud  and  very 
severe." 

"  You  did  not  get  that  idea  from  what  you  know 
of  her  son,  I  hope  ?  " 

"  Yes,  I  did.  You  are  very  severe  for  a  young  man 
and  fairly  authoritative,  into  the  bargain,"  answered 
Annie,  smiling. 

"  Because  I  prevented  your  going  to  the  Palais-Royal 


176  AMERICAN  NOBILITY 

and  to  the  Neuilly  Fair  in  Paris  and  because  I  do 
not  like  the  petits  chevaux  and  the  fishing  for  sand- 
eels  here  for  you?" 

"  Oh,  and  many  other  things,  too.  Clara  is  pretty 
independent,  but  she  is  morally  afraid  of  you.  I  am 
too,"  added  Annie,  half  joking  and  half  seriously. 

"  If  I  have  appeared  authoritative,  as  you  say,  it 
has  been  because  of  my  interest  in  you.  I  did  not 
want  you  to  be  criticised  or  to  hear  unseemly  things 
in  a  theatre,  nor  could  I  bear  the  idea  of  your  coming 
into  contact,  for  a  single  minute,  with  a  mixed  crowd. 
You  are  not  vexed  with  me,  are  you  ?  "  asked  Jacques, 
with  a  very  tender  look  and  tone. 

"  Oh,  no,"  answered  Annie,  promptly,  "  I  was  only 
joking." 

"  I  am  glad  of  that.  I  am  delighted,  too,  that  my 
mother  did  not  frighten  you  and  that  she  liked  you 
so  much." 

They  had  just  arrived  on  the  terrace,  which  was 
beautifully  lighted  up  by  the  moon.  There  was  silence 
between  them  for  a  moment.  The  same  emotion  had 
taken  possession  of  them  both  and  made  them  mute. 
They  slackened  their  pace  and  Annie  rolled  the  hem 
of  her  handkerchief  between  her  fingers.  From  time 
to  time,  she  glanced  shyly  and  anxiously  at  her  com- 
panion. She  was  trying  to  gather  courage  to  say  what 
she  had  determined  to  say,  but  the  words  remained  in 
her  throat.  After  a  few  seconds  of  inward  conflict,  she 
managed  to  overcome  her  nervousness. 

"  Is  it  true  that  you  intend  going  to  Africa  with 
an  exploring  expedition  ?  "  she  asked. 

Jacques  started  slightly  and  a  flush  came  into  his 
face. 

"  How  did  you  know?  "  he  asked. 


AMERICAN  NOBILITY  177 

"  I  heard  yesterday,  at  your  uncle's.  Why  did  you 
never  say  a  word  to  me  about  it  ?  " 

"  To  talk  of  such  a  thing  beforehand  would  be  like 
boasting.     I  have  not  mentioned  it  to  any  one " 

"  And  do  you  very  much  want  to  go  ?  " 

"  I  did  two  months  ago — but  now ^" 

"Why  not  now?" 

The  Marquis  stopped  walking.  His  face  was  very 
pale  and  he  was  evidently  very  much  agitated. 

"  Miss  Villars,"  he  said,  "  will  you  promise  to  answer 
very  frankly  a  question  I  am  going  to  ask  you,  and 
to  reply  independently  of  your  own  feelings  and  of 
mine?" 

"  Yes,  I  promise." 

"  In  your  opinion,  could  a  very  poor  man  marry  a 
very  rich  woman  without  losing  his  dignity?" 

"  Yes,  if  he  had  a  position  to  offer  her,  or  if  he  were 
ready  to  work  for  her  and,  above  all,  if  he  loved  her 
sincerely,"  answered  Annie,  unhesitatingly. 

Jacques  scanned  her  face  for  a  moment  with  the 
light  of  the  moon  full  upon  it  and  then,  in  a  voice 
that  was  muffled  by  emotion,  he  said: 

"  Well,  then,  Annie,  I  love  you  very  sincerely  and 
very  deeply.  On  my  honour  as  a  gentleman,  if  you 
were  poor  and  I  had  a  large  fortune,  you  are  the  wife 
I  should  choose,  not  merely  because  you  are  charm- 
ing, but  because  you  are  so  straightforward,  and  have 
such  a  sweet  disposition.  I  have  nothing  but  an  old 
name,  of  which  I  am  very  proud,  though,  for  I  value 
it  more  than  my  life.  Will  you  accept  it,  will  you  be 
my  wife?  " 

"  Will  I  ?  Yes,  with  all  my  heart,"  answered  Annie, 
without  any  false  modesty  and  with  a  simplicity  that 
was  not  without  a  certain  grandeur.    Jacques  raised 


178  AMERICAN  NOBILITY 

the  hand  she  held  out  to  him  to  his  lips.  This  kiss, 
full  of  the  warmth  and  electricity  of  love  made  Annie 
thrill  from  head  to  foot.  She  was  both  disturbed  and 
intimidated  by  this  power,  the  effect  of  which  she 
had  just  felt  for  the  first  time  in  her  life. 

The  Marquis  took  her  hand  and  placed  it  on  his 
arm. 

"  Annie,"  he  said,  in  a  very  tender  voice,  "  I  cannot 
find  words  to  thank  you  for  this  gift  of  yourself.  You 
shall  never  regret  it,  though." 

"  I  am  sure  I  never  shall,"  she  replied.  "  What  a 
fright  and  what  misery  I  endured  yesterday,  when  1 
heard  that  you  were  thinking  of  going  to  Africa." 

"  Unfortunately  I  am  not  valiant  enough  to  prefer 
glory  to  happiness,"  said  Jacques,  with  bitterness  and 
self-disdain.    "  I  am  no  hero,  as  you  see." 

"  So  much  the  better.  I  detest  heroes ;  they  always 
make  other  people  suffer.  If  you  had  gone,  you  would 
have  made  your  mother  wretched." 

"  And  what  about  you  ?  " 

"  I  should  have  been  wretched,  too." 

Jacques  was  deeply  touched  by  this  avowal  and 
pressed  the  hand  that  lay  on  his  arm. 

"  You  will  never  doubt  my  disinterestedness,  will 
you  ?  "  he  asked. 

"Nor  you  mine?" 

"Yours?" 

"  Yes,  are  you  not  going  to  make  a  very  grand  lady 
of  me?  People  will  not  fail  to  say  that  I  wanted  a 
title,  and  that  I  am  marrying  you  out  of  ambition." 

"  Those  who  know  you  will  never  believe  that." 

"  I  hope  not,  but  I  must  confess  that  I  shall  be 
very  proud  to  be  a  Marchioness  d'Anguilhon." 

"  Do    you    know    that    our    family    is    absolutely 


AMERICAN  NOBILITY  179 

ruined?  I  am  very  poor  indeed,"  said  Jacques, 
flushing  painfully. 

"What  does  that  matter?  It  is  a  misfortune  and 
not  a  fault.     It  does  not  lower  you  in  the  least." 

Just  as  they  reached  the  end  of  the  terrace,  a  white 
form  appeared  suddenly  in  front  of  them  and  brought 
them  to  a  standstill.  It  was  Clara  and  she  looked  at 
them  in  silence  for  a  few  seconds. 

"  Monsieur  d'Anguilhon,"  she  exclaimed,  "  I  will  never 
forgive  you,  never ! "  She  uttered  these  words  in  a 
loud,  clear  voice  and  then  turned  round  and  disap- 
peared behind  the  hedge.  The  engaged  couple,  who 
had  been  taken  aback  at  first,  both  laughed  heartily. 

"  America  protesting  already  I  "  said  Jacques. 

«  Let  it  protest." 

"  How  is  it  that  your  cousin  never  discovered  that 
I  was  in  love  with  you  ?  " 

"  She  thought  you  were  in  love  with  the  Duchess," 
answered  Annie,  smiling. 

"  In  love  with  the  Duchess?  "  repeated  Jacques  with 
unfeigned  astonishment.     "  What  an  idea!  " 

"  Yes,  was  it  not?  Oh,  I  shall  have  a  nice  time  now 
with  her.     She  will  preach." 

"  And  you  are  not  afraid  ?  " 

"  No,  I  am  very  brave." 

"  Will  not  your  mother  object  to  your  marrying  a 
Frenchman  ?  " 

"Mother?  Oh,  she  would  never  think  of  trying  to 
make  me  go  against  my  inclinations." 

"  You  cannot  think  how  the  idea  of  proposing  to 
you  embarrassed  me.  It  is  so  contrary  to  our 
custom." 

"  Well,  I  am  very  glad  that  you  treated  me  as  an 
American.     If  you  had  spoken   first  to  Mother,  you 


180  AMERICAN  NOBILITY 

would  have  spoilt  everything  and  I  should  not  have 
had  the  beautiful  memory  of  this  evening." 

Annie  stopped  short  and  looked  straight  into 
Jacques'  eyes. 

"  But  what  about  your  family?  "  she  asked.  "  Will 
not  every  one  be  much  annoyed  with  you  for  choosing 
a  foreigner  and  a  Protestant?" 

"  No,  my  mother  is  very  religious,  but  she  is  not 
narrow-minded.  Thanks  to  Madame  de  Keradieu,  she 
likes  and  appreciates  the  American  character.  In  the 
first  place,  she  will  be  very  grateful  to  you  for  keep- 
ing me  in  Europe,  and  then,  she  will  grow  very  fond 
of  you,  I  am  sure.  I  should  never  have  married  a 
woman  who  was  not  worthy  to  be  her  daughter.  Ah, 
she  will  be  very  much  surprised,  to-morrow,  when  1 
ask  her  for  the  d'Anguilhon  engagement  ring,  which 
she  still  wears  on  her  right  hand." 

"  Is  it  a  blue  enamel  ring,  with  initials  and  a  small 
crown  in  diamonds  ?  "  asked  Annie,  impulsively. 

"  Yes,  had  you  noticed  it  ?  " 

"  It  fascinated  me.  I  kept  looking  at  it  all  the 
time." 

"  Well,  then,  to-morrow,  I  shall  put  it  on  this  finger," 
said  Jacques,  kissing  the  third  finger  of  Annie's  left 
hand.  "  I  hope  it  will  fit  you.  It  will  be  the  first 
link  in  the  chain  that  is  to  bind  us  together.  I  hope 
it  will  be  a  pleasant  chain,  do  you  think  it  will  ?  " 

Annie  was  too  deeply  moved  to  be  able  to  speak. 
She  nodded  her  head  silently. 

Jacques  took  her  to  the  edge  of  the  terrace. 

"What  a  beautiful  evening  for  our  engagement!" 
he  said.  "  Just  look — "  The  sea  lay  before  them, 
stretching  out  towards  the  horizon  like  a  sheet  of 
light.    The  warm,   golden   August  moon  was   rising 


AMERICAN  NOBILITY  181 

slowly  in  the  dark  sky.  The  atmosphere  was  of  extra- 
ordinary transparence.  There  was  not  a  breath  of 
wind  stirring  and  the  whole  landscape  seemed  to  be 
enchanted  and  idealised. 

"  How  very  beautiful !  "  murmured  Annie,  "  a  never- 
to-be-forgotten  scene." 

"  Do  you  know  the  name  of  the  roses  you  are 
wearing?  "  asked  Jacques. 

«  No." 

"  The  '  bride's  roses.'  You  were  certainly  inspired 
in  choosing  them  for  this  evening." 

"Well,  I  chose  them,  because  I  had  heard  you  say 
you  liked  them." 

"  I  do.  There  used  to  be  a  whole  clump  of  them  in 
a  corner  of  the  garden  at  Blonay  and  they  were  my 
admiration  as  a  child.  I  used  to  cool  my  face  with 
them,  when  I  was  warm  after  racing  about  and  their 
scent  was  delicious.  They  will  now  be  doubly  dear 
to  me.   Will  you  give  me  a  few  of  them  as  a  keepsake?  " 

Annie  took  the  bunch  from  her  dress  and,  with 
trembling  fingers,  divided  it  into  two. 

"  There,  take  one  half  and  I  will  keep  the  other." 

Jacques  took  the  little  roses,  clasping  the  hand  that 
offered  them  in  his  for  a  moment. 

"  The  bride's  roses,"  he  said,  kissing  them  before  he 
put  them  away  in  his  pocket-book. 

Just  at  this  moment  they  heard  voices. 

"  I  think  we  must  go  in,"  said  Annie,  "  or  we  shall 
be  missed.     I  shall  see  you  again  to-morrow." 

"  And  every  day — always,"  answered  Jacques. 

They  clasped  hands  again  and  then  walked  slowly 
back  to  the  house.  When  they  reappeared,  Madame 
de  Keradieu  and  Guy  de  Nozay  looked  at  them  with 
a  certain  curiosity.     Annie  was  careful  to  avoid  look- 


182  AMERICAN  NOBILITY 

ing  at  Clara.  She  whispered  to  her  mother  that  she 
had  a  headache  and  asked  her  to  excuse  her  to  their 
friends.     She  then  slipped  quietly  away  to  her  room. 

Catherine  was  there  when  she  entered  and  Annie 
threw  her  arms  round  her  old  nurse's  neck  and  hugged 
and  kissed  her. 

"  Oh,  I  am  so  happy!  "  she  exclaimed,  with  a  beaming 
face. 

Catherine  released  herself  and  then  stood  back  and 
looked  attentively  at  her  young  mistress. 

"  You  do  not  mean  that  you  are  engaged  ?  " 

«  I  do,  though." 

"Oh,  Miss  Annie,  Miss  Annie!" 

Poor  Catherine  sank  down  on  a  chair,  overwhelmed 
with  consternation. 

"  Had  you  guessed  then  ?  " 

"  Guessed  that  you  were  in  love  with  this  French 
Marquis?  Oh,  yes,  long  enough  ago,  ever  since  the 
first  time  I  saw  you  together.  And  you  were  so 
changed,  never  two  hours  in  the  same  mood,  never 
satisfied  with  your  hair  and  your  dress,  always  absent- 
minded.  All  that  was  a  sure  sign.  Oh,  you  have  been 
a  worry  to  me !  " 

"  I  little  thought  I  was  so  disagreeable,"  said  Annie, 
laughing.  "  Ah,  you  will  see  how  nice  I  shall  be 
again ! " 

"  And  this  evening,"  continued  Makay,  "  I  was  in 
your  mother's  room  and  I  saw  him  taking  you  off  to 
the  terrace.  It  made  my  heart  stand  still,  for  I  guessed 
what  was  going  to  happen." 

"  So  much  the  better,  or  you  might  have  fainted 
with  the  shock  now." 

"How  can  you  joke  about  it.  Miss  Annie?"  said 
Catherine,  reproachfully. 


AMERICAN  NOBILITY  183 

"  And  how  can  you  look  so  wretched  when  you  see 
me  happy?  You  have  often  told  me  that  I  have  no 
feeling.  I  tell  you  now  that  I  am  in  love  and  still 
you  are  not  satisfied.  Come  now,  is  not  Monsieur 
d'Anguilhon  very  handsome?" 

"  Yes,  but  what  about  his  character  and  his  morals? 
Are  you  sure  about  all  that  ?  " 

"  He  is  a  gentleman,  Catherine." 

"  Your  poor  aunts  will  be  heart-broken." 

"  Would  you  like  me  to  sacrifice  my  love  and  my 
own  happiness  for  their  sake?  Do  you  want  me  to 
be  an  old  maid?" 

"  No,  no,  my  child " 

"  Well,  then,  do  not  grumble  any  more  and  put  off 
that  tragic  look." 

"  Yes,  but  have  you  really  thought  it  over  ?  "  began 
Catherine  again. 

"  No,  I  have  not.  I  liked  the  Marquis  d'Anguilhon 
the  first  time  I  saw  him.  He  attracted  me  and  I  fell 
in  love  with  him.     I  am  quite  in  love  with  him  now." 

"  Does  Miss  Clara  know  ?  " 

Annie  began  to  laugh. 

"  She  came  to  the  terrace  and  saw  us  arm  in  arm, 
so  she  guessed.  She  will  be  coming  soon  to  make  a 
scene,  but  I  am  ready  for  her." 

"  Miss  Annie,"  said  Catherine,  anxiously,  getting  up 
from  her  seat,  "  you  will  not  send  me  back  to  America, 
will  you?" 

"  Send  you  back  to  America  ?  Have  you  gone  mad  ? 
Do  you  suppose  I  could  do  without  you?  No, 
Catherine,  we  will  never  part — unless,  of  course,  you 
were  to  take  a  dislike  to  my  husband." 

"  Oh,  if  he  makes  you  happy,  I  shall  be  sure  to  like 
him." 


184  AMERICAN  NOBILITY 

"  You  will  adore  him.  And  now  you  can  go.  I  will 
undress  alone." 

Annie  threw  her  arms  again  round  Catherine's  neck. 

"  Now  go  and  have  a  little  cry/'  she  said.  "  I  know 
you,  and  you  will  not  be  right  again  until  you  have 
wept  a  few  tears." 

"  God  bless  you,  my  darling,"  murmured  Catherine 
as  she  went  away. 

"  There,  I  have  settled  one,"  said  Annie,  gaily.  She 
then  threw  herself  down  on  the  divan  and  tried  to 
live  again  the  delightful  scene  that  had  just  taken 
place.  She  recalled  all  Jacques'  words,  his  looks,  and 
his  emotion.  At  a  certain  moment,  she  had  felt  his 
heart  beat  against  her  arm.  Oh,  yes,  he  was  abso- 
lutely sincere,  she  said  to  herself  and  she  could  never 
doubt  him.  He  must  really  be  in  love  with  her,  or 
he  would  never  choose  her  for  the  Marchioness  d'An- 
guilhon.  After  spending  more  than  an  hour  recalling 
every  incident  of  the  evening  and  thinking  over  her 
present  and  future  happiness,  Annie  took  the  roses 
from  her  dress  and  placed  them  in  a  valuable  little 
old  box  which  she  had  bought  a  few  days  previously. 
She  then  took  her  rings  off  and  smiled  happily  as  she 
thought  that  the  very  next  day  Jacques  would  put  the 
engagement  ring  belonging  to  the  Anguilhon  family  on 
her  finger,  that  beautiful,  blue  enamel  ring  which,  to 
use  her  own  expression,  had  fascinated  her. 


CHAPTER  XVIII 

Clara  would  never  have  been  able  to  sleep  that 
night,  if  she  had  not  gone  first  to  free  her  mind  of 
the  anger  and  indignation  she  had  felt  on  seeing  her 
cousin  arm  in  arm  with  the  Marquis  d'Anguilhon.  She 
went  to  Annie's  room  as  soon  as  she  could  escape  and 
overwhelmed  her  with  reproaches,  accusing  her  of 
duplicity,  hypocrisy,  and  everything  else  that  was  bad. 
She  was  particularly  exasperated  herself  at  the  idea 
that,  after  coming  to  Europe  specially  to  watch  over 
Annie,  she  should  have  seen  nothing  of  what  was 
going  on.  Her  wounded  vanity  made  her  positively 
abominable. 

Annie  endured  everything  admirably  as  long  as  her 
cousin  only  blamed  her,  but  when  she  attacked  the 
Marquis  and  cast  doubts  on  his  sincerity,  Jacques* 
fiancee  requested  her  to  be  silent  on  the  subject. 

"  Once  for  all,"  she  said,  with  great  dignity,  "  I  will 
not  listen  to  anything  you  have  to  say  either  about 
my  wealth  or  Monsieur  d'Anguilhon's  poverty.  I  be- 
lieve that  his  affection  for  me  is  disinterested,  because 
he  says  that  it  is.  If  he  has  deceived  me,  so  much  the 
worse  for  him.  I  am  engaged  to  him  and  all  that  you 
say  against  him  hurts  me." 

Clara  then  reproached  her  cousin  for  deserting  her 
friends  and  her  country.  Annie  replied  that  New  York 
was  only  a  week's  journey  from  Paris. 

185 


186  AMERICAN  NOBILITY 

"  A  week's  journey,"  repeated  Clara,  shrugging  her 
shoulders.  "  When  once  you  are  married  to  a  French- 
man, it  will  be  a  journey  of  years.  Remember  what 
I  say.  You  will  not  be  able  to  shut  up  your  house 
and  your  chMeau  to  go  and  see  your  family.  Your 
social  position  will  create  a  thousand  obligations  for 
you  that  will  make  you  a  prisoner " 

"A  prisoner!"  said  Annie,  laughing.  She  then 
assured  her  cousin  that  she  would  never  be  made  a 
prisoner  by  any  one  or  anything  and  she  promised  to 
be  present  at  her  wedding  at  all  costs.  She  then  tried 
to  show  her  the  pleasant  side  of  things,  but  Clara 
would  not  listen. 

Just  at  this  moment,  Mrs.  Villars  came  into  the 
room  and  her  niece,  still  furious,  told  her  the  news 
bluntly  without  any  preparation  whatever.  The  poor 
woman  was  perfectly  bewildered  by  it.  Her  daughter 
engaged  to  Monsieur  d'Anguilhon!  It  took  her  some 
time  to  really  believe  it,  as  she  was  convinced  that 
it  was  just  a  joke.  When  once  she  recovered  from  her 
surprise,  she  blamed  Annie  for  her  dissimulation.  It 
was  that  which  hurt  her  more  than  all  the  rest. 

"  How  could  you  hide  from  me  what  was  going  on 
between  yourself  and  the  Marquis  ?  "  she  asked  with 
an  expression  of  severity  on  her  face  such  as  Annie 
had  never  seen  there  before. 

"  But  nothing  has  been  going  on,  Mother,"  answered 
her  daughter,  promptly.  "  He  has  never  spoken  to  me 
of  love  or  marriage  until  this  evening.  We  have 
always  talked  together  as  friends.  We  have  never 
flirted  at  all.  As  to  what  I  felt  for  him,  it  was  all 
too  vague  at  first  and  then  too  sacred  to  talk  about." 

Mrs.  Villars  understood  at  once  that  Annie  must 
be  very  much  in  love  with  the  Marquis  to  decide  to 


AMERICAN  NOBILITY  187 

marry  him  like  this.  She  made  no  attempt  to  fight 
against  this  love  and  to  make  her  daughter  listen  to 
reason,  but  she  let  her  see  her  grief  and  disappoint- 
ment. She  also  declared  that  she  would  not  give  her 
consent  until  she  had  made  very  full  inquiries  about 
Monsieur  d'Anguilhon. 

Madame  de  Keradieu,  hearing  voices  in  Annie's 
room,  came  to  see  what  was  going  on.  She  stopped 
short  at  the  door,  surprised  and  alarmed  at  the  con- 
sternation depicted  on  the  faces  of  Mrs.  Villars  and 
Clara.  Annie  advanced  to  meet  her,  threw  her  arms 
round  her  neck,  and  whispered  to  her  that  she  was 
engaged  to  Jacques. 

Madame  de  Keradieu  uttered  an  exclamation  of  joy 
and  congratulated  her  with  a  sincerity  that  came 
straight  from  her  heart. 

"  You  might  have  gone  a  very  long  way  without 
meeting  a  man  as  good  as  the  Marquis  d'Anguilhon," 
she  said. 

"  She  had  only  to  stay  in  America  for  that,"  put  in 
Clara,  drily. 

"  Well,  I  do  not  think  so." 

"  Yes,  of  course,  I  understand.  His  family,  his 
title — "  said  Clara,  disdainfully,  "  all  that  is  useless 
and  often  interferes  with  real  happiness." 

"  Well,  they  are  things  which  may  contribute  to 
make  life  agreeable,"  replied  Madame  de  Keradieu, 
calmly.  "  You  can  be  quite  easy  in  your  mind,"  she 
added,  turning  to  Mrs.  Villars.  "  Jacques  is  a  thor- 
ough gentleman  and  my  husband  will  give  you  all  the 
information  you  will  want  about  him  and  his  family." 

She  then  said  all  she  could  to  reconcile  Mrs.  Villars 
and  Clara  to  the  idea  of  this  marriage,  but  she  felt 
that  their  disappointment  was  too  recent  and  too  keen 


188  AMERICAN  NOBILITY 

at  present  and  that  it  would  be  better  to  leave  time 
and  reflection  to  do  their  work.  They  all  separated 
for  the  night  on  fairly  good  terms.  Mrs.  Villars  pro- 
mised not  to  oppose  her  daughter's  choice,  provided 
the  result  of  her  inquiries  should  be  satisfactory,  and 
Clara  gave  her  word  to  be,  at  any  rate,  polite  to  the 
Marquis.  Annie  could  not  reasonably  expect  more 
than  this. 


CHAPTER  XIX 

Jacques'  first  thought  was  to  go  and  see  the  Duchess. 
He  took  leave  of  Mrs.  Villars,  almost  as  soon  as  Annie 
went  away  and,  with  a  joyful  heart,  he  made  his  way 
to  Petit-Port. 

Christiane  had  felt  sure  that  his  fate  would  be  de- 
cided that  day.  She  guessed  that  he  would  choose  the 
evening  for  proposing  to  Annie  and  that  he  would 
come  and  tell  her  the  result  immediately. 

Ever  since  the  evening  before,  her  mind  had  been 
full  of  the  most  painful  anxiety  and  she  had  had  a 
constant  pang  at  her  heart.  She  had  gone  for  a  long 
walk  of  some  three  hours  and  had  tried  everything 
in  order  to  forget  Jacques  and  Annie  for  a  time,  but 
all  in  vain.  After  dinner  she  had  insisted  on  Guy 
de  Nozay  and  Louis  de  Challans  going  to  Mrs.  Villars', 
but,  unable  to  rest  herself,  she  had  strolled  up 
and  down  the  verandah  with  her  uncle  and  Dr. 
Moreau. 

When  the  Marquis  d'Anguilhon  was  announced,  she 
went  back  to  the  drawing-room,  stopped  a  second  in 
the  doorway  to  note  the  expression  of  his  face,  and 
then  advanced  quickly  towards  him. 

"You  look  triumphant,"  she  said,  as  she  held  out 
her  hand  to  him. 

"  I  feel  simply  a  happy  man,"  he  answered. 

The  Duchess  had  the  sensation  of  a  violent  blow,  of 

189 


190  AMERICAN  NOBILITY 

a  wound  that  she  had  just  received.  Her  eyelids 
drooped  for  a  second  and  the  reflection  of  deep  emotion 
swept  over  her  face. 

"Ah!"  she  said. 

Her  voice  had  such  a  strange  intonation  that  Jacques 
looked  at  her  in  surprise. 

She  sat  down  in  her  large  arm-chair ;  the  shade  of  a 
lamp  placed  near  her  on  a  small  table  slightly  hid 
her  face  and  just  a  few  seconds  suflQced  for  her  to 
regain  her  self-possession. 

"  And  so  you  are  engaged  ? "  she  said,  in  a  more 
natural  tone  of  voice,  opening  her  fan. 

"  Very  much  engaged,"  replied  Jacques. 

"  Did  you  receive  my  little  note  yesterday  ?  " 

"  Yes,  and  as  you  see,  I  obeyed  you." 

"  And  you  were  quite  right.  With  women,  there  is 
a  moment  for  which  you  must  wait,  but  you  must 
never  let  it  go  by.  That  moment  had  just  arrived 
with  Miss  Villars.  And  then,  too,  I  was  rather 
afraid  that  the  romantic  idea  to  go  and  gather  a  few 
laurel  leaves  in  Africa  before  marrying  might  tempt 
you." 

"  You  judge  me  too  highly,"  said  Jacques,  colour- 
ing slightly.  "  I  am  incapable  of  such  a  thing, 
unfortunately." 

"You  had  thought  of  it,  though.  Oh,  I  can  read 
your  face  very  easily." 

"  Ah,  comfortable  for  me,  that !  " 

"And  how  did  things  go  oflE?  I  suppose  you  were 
very  eloquent?"  said  the  Duchess. 

The  jesting  note  in  this  question  did  not  escape 
Jacques  and  it  hurt  his  feelings. 

"  I  was  sincere,"  he  replied,  coldly.  "  As  to  Miss 
Villars,  she  accepted  me  in  an  impulsive,  generous- 


AMERICAN  NOBILITY  191 

hearted  way  and  with  such  absolute  trust  as  I  shall 
never  forget." 

"  What  a  surprise  it  will  be  for  your  mother !  The 
bare  idea  of  your  departure  had  made  her  pale  and 
thin.     She  will  come  to  life  again  now." 

"  Only  fancy,  that  she  was  delighted  with  Annie. 
She  asked  me  no  end  of  questions  about  her  and 
watched  me  in  a  curious  way  all  the  time.  I  should 
not  be  surprised  if  she  had  guessed.  She  has  such 
intuition." 

"  And  now  you  must  not  loiter.  The  wedding  ought 
to  be  at  the  end  of  October." 

"The  end  of  October?  Do  you  think  so?  They 
might  think  that  my  eagerness  had  some  interested 
motive." 

"  A  man's  eagerness  in  such  cases  is  always  flatter- 
ing. I  have  faith  in  Annie's  word  and  in  her  strength 
of  character,  but  all  the  same,  I  shall  not  be  easy  in 
my  mind  until  I  see  you  coming  out  of  the  St.  Clotilde 
Church — and  I  really  need  peace  and  tranquillity," 
added  the  Duchess,  in  a  tone  that  again  surprised 
Jacques. 

"  Are  you  so  anxious  to  get  rid  of  me?  "  he  asked. 

"Of  you,  no,  but  of  the  anxiety  of  your  marriage. 
I  do  not  mean  to  reproach  you,  of  course,  but  for 
nearly  four  months  I  have  had  it  on  my  mind 
all  the  time,  and  I  really  need  a  change  of 
thought." 

"  What  is  the  matter  with  you  this  evening?  "  asked 
Jacques,  stung  to  the  quick.  "  I  have  never  seen  you 
like  this  before.  Have  I  done  anything  that  has  vexed 
you?" 

"  No,  nothing  of  the  kind.  I  have  been  for  a  ridicu- 
lously long  walk  and  am  simply  worn  out  with  fatigue, 


192  AMERICAN  NOBILITY 

and  the  heat  makes  me  nervous.  I  shall  send  you 
away  very  soon." 

"Already?  And  I  have  so  many  things  to  talk  to 
you  about." 

"  To-morrow  I  will  listen  to  everything.  We  will 
talk  as  long  as  ever  you  like,"  said  Christiane,  with 
a  gentler  inflection  in  her  voice.  "  In  the  meantime, 
I  congratulate  you  sincerely.  You  will  not  only  have 
money,  but  a  good,  straightforward  and  very  agreeable 
wife." 

"  And  how  ever  am  I  to  thank  you  for  helping  me?  ** 

"  By  doing  all  the  good  you  can." 

"  That  I  will  endeavour  to  do." 

"  Good-bye,  then,  for  this  evening,"  said  the  Duchess 
with  one  of  her  most  charming  smiles. 

Dismissed  in  this  way,  Jacques  went  away  feeling 
very  much  annoyed  and  disappointed.  He  was  by  no 
means  as  happy  as  when  he  had  arrived. 

"  What  a  strange  woman  she  is ! "  he  said  to  himself. 
"  One  never  knows  in  what  mood  one  will  find  her. 
Thank  Heaven,  Annie  has  not  such  a  complex  nature !  " 

After  he  had  gone  away,  Christiane  remained  for 
some  little  time  motionless,  with  a  fixed  look  in  her 
eyes,  but  seeing  nothing  of  the  things  around  her.  She 
was  surprised  that  she  should  suffer  and  she  began  to 
try  to  discover  the  cause  of  this  grief  which  had 
suddenly  made  itself  felt  within  her. 

"  Am  I  envious  ? "  she  asked  herself,  but  her  lips 
curled  scornfully  at  this  idea.  "  What  is  it  then  ?  "  she 
asked  herself  again. 

The  sudden  appearance  of  a  phantom  would  not 
have  made  her  face  turn  more  pale  nor  have  given  a 
more  awe-struck  expression  to  her  eyes  than  what  she 
saw  in  the  depths  of  her  heart. 


AMERICAN  NOBILITY  19.^ 

"  What  madness ! "  she  exclaimed  aloud  and,  taking 
her  handkerchief,  she  wiped  the  cold  perspiration  from 
her  forehead,  murmuring  to  herself,  as  she  did  so : 

"  Impossible,  impossible !  " 

13 


CHAPTER  XX 

The  following  day,  after  sending  Annie  her  first 
fiancee's  bouquet,  together  with  a  few  charming  lines, 
Jacques  set  out  for  his  uncle's  house.  The  nearer  he 
approached,  the  more  slowly  he  walked.  Up  to  the 
present  moment,  he  thought  he  had  done  well  in  not 
saying  to  his  mother  anything  about  his  idea  of  mar- 
rying. He  realised  though,  now,  that  in  proposing  to 
Annie,  without  first  obtaining  his  mother's  approval, 
he  had  done  a  thing  that  was  unheard  of,  absolutely 
without  precedent  in  his  family,  and  it  was  not  with- 
out a  certain  apprehension  that  he  entered  the  house. 

Madame  d'Anguilhon  was  in  a  small  drawing-room, 
leading  out  of  her  own  bedroom,  writing  letters.  On 
seeing  her  son,  her  face  lighted  up,  as  usual,  with  joj'. 

"  You?  "  she  exclaimed.  "  I  did  not  expect  you  this 
morning." 

Jacques'  heart  began  to  beat  more  quickly.  He 
kissed  his  mother  very  tenderly  and  then,  putting  his 
arm  through  hers,  led  her  to  her  armchair  and,  when 
she  was  once  seated,  put  a  cushion  under  her  feet  and 
knelt  down  on  it  himself.  He  took  her  hands  in  his 
and,  looking  up  at  her,  with  eyes  full  of  triumph  and 
affection,  he  told  her  all. 

The  Marchioness  was  both  surprised  and  displeased. 
She  was  very  much  hurt  that  her  son  had  not  taken 
her  into  his  confidence  and  above  all  that  he  had  not 

194 


AMERICAN  NOBILITY  195 

consulted  her.  Jacques  tried  to  excuse  himself  by 
telling  her  that  he  had  acted  in  this  way  merely  to 
spare  her  the  anxiety  and  suspense  which  he  himself 
had  experienced.  He  told  her  that  if  he  had  taken 
the  decisive  step  without  asking  for  her  approval  first, 
it  was  because  he  was  sure  of  it.  He  told  her  all  that 
he  knew  about  the  Villars  family  and  spoke  of  Annie's 
good  qualities,  enumerating  all  the  promises  of  happi- 
ness that  this  marriage  with  her  gave  him. 

As  she  listened  to  her  son,  the  expression  of  Madame 
d'Anguilhon's  face  gradually  became  more  serene.  The 
idea  that  he  would  not  leave  her  suddenly  dawned  on 
her  and  filled  hev  heart  with  joy.  The  tears  then 
came  into  her  ej^es. 

"  It  would  all  be  perfect,"  she  said,  "  if  only  Miss 
Villars  were  not  a  foreigner  and  a  Protestant." 

"  Yes,  she  is  a  foreigner  and  a  Protestant,  not  an 
aristocrat,  but  a  republican,"  replied  Jacques,  "  and 
yet  she  is  not  hourgeoise.  She  has  no  stupid  vanity 
and  no  petty  likes  and  dislikes.  She  is  well-bred  and 
will  suit  herself  to  her  new  surroundings  perfectly. 
Our  race  wants  building  up,"  he  continued.  "  Annie 
has  a  splendid  constitution.  She  will  have  fine  children, 
such  children  as  are  born  of  these  Franco-American 
marriages,  children  that  are  well  built,  with  golden 
hair,  and  well-set  eyes.  I  fancy  I  can  see  them 
already,"  said  Jacques  with  emotion. 

The  Marchioness  thought  Annie's  dowry  too  large. 

"  For  a  poor  man  to  accept  so  large  a  fortune,"  she 
said,  "  he  ought  to  be  very  much  in  love  with  the 
woman  and  he  ought  to  esteem  her  very  highly." 

"  I  do  love  and  esteem  Annie  very  much  indeed," 
answered  Jacques. 

"  And  then,  too,  remember,"  said  his  mother,  ^'  that 


196  AMERICAN  NOBILITY 

the  world,  indulgent  as  it  usually  is  towards  masculine 
unfaithfulness,  despises  the  man  who  is  unfaithful  to 
the  woman  who  has  brought  him  money.  I  would 
rather  you  went  out  to  Africa  and  died  there  than 
see  you  wrong  this  girl,  for  she  is  not  only  bringing 
you  a  royal  fortune,  but  sacrificing  many  things  for 
your  sake.  The  Anguilhons  have  never  kept  their 
marriage  vow.  You  must  be  the  exception  and  prove 
yourself  a  faithful  husband.  Give  me  your  word  of 
honour  that  you  will  never  allow  yourself  to  be  led 
away  in  this  respect.    I  consent  only  on  this  condition." 

"  I  give  you  my  word  of  honour,"  said  Jacques,  in 
a  firm  tone  of  voice. 

"  Then  may  God  bless  you,"  said  the  Marchioness, 
laying  her  hand  on  her  son's  head. 

She  then  took  from  her  finger  the  enamel  ring  she 
was  wearing  and  gave  it  to  him. 

"  Here  is  your  engagement  ring,"  she  said,  in  an 
altered  voice.  "  Your  father  gave  it  to  me  thirty-two 
years  ago.     May  it  bring  happiness  to  Miss  Villars." 

The  Marchioness  looked  at  her  son  for  a  few  seconds 
in  silence. 

"  And  to  think,"  she  said  at  last,  gently,  "  that  there 
are  people  who  believe  that  God  no  longer  works 
miracles ! " 

It  would  be  difficult  to  translate  into  words  the  joy 
of  the  Countess  de  Froissy  on  hearing  of  her  nephew's 
engagement.  Her  husband  blamed  Jacques  severely 
for  allowing  him  to  take  steps  for  obtaining  a  post 
for  him  in  the  expedition  to  Africa,  when  he  intended 
all  the  time  to  marry  an  heiress. 

Jacques  explained  that  he  had  wanted  to  keep  this 
African  expedition  as  a  consolation  to  fall  back  upon 
in  case  he  were  refused. 


AMERICAN  NOBILITY  197 

"But,"  he  added,  smiling,  "you  see  that  the  old 
proverb  is  true  and  there  will  always  be  ^  love,  glory, 
and  money  for  a  d'Anguilhon.' " 

"  Glory !  "  repeated  Monsieur  de  Froissy,  "  where 
does  that  come  in?" 

"  It  will  perhaps  come  like  the  rest,"  answered 
Jacques. 

Monsieur  de  Froissy  shrugged  his  shoulders. 

"  Well,"  he  said,  "  I  am  glad  about  this  marriage 
for  your  mother's  sake  and  I  only  hope  you  will  make 
good  use  of  this  money  which  is  coming  to  you  so 
unexpectedly  from  America.  But  remember,"  he  added, 
"  for  the  sake  of  your  own  honour  and  ours,  let  there 
be  no  heavy  gambling  at  your  club,  no  freaks,  and  no 
follies!" 


CHAPTER  XXI 

Monsieur  de  Kbradieu  satisfied  Annie's  mother  by 
declaring  that  he  would  answer  for  Jacques  as  for 
himself.  She  knew  him  too  well  to  doubt  his  good 
faith  in  saying  this.  Jacques  then  asked  Mrs.  Villars 
oflficially  for  Annie's  hand  and  his  request  was  granted, 
but  God  alone  knew  with  what  regret. 

The  announcement  of  the  Marquis  d'Anguilhon's 
approaching  marriage  with  the  wealthy  American  girl, 
who  had  been  so  much  talked  about  the  previous  sea- 
son, caused  general  surprise.  It  was  quite  a  society 
event  and  was  discussed  in  all  the  chMeaux  in  France. 
Envious  people  blamed  him  for  leaping  so  lightly  over 
the  baton  de  la  mesalliance,  as  it  was  styled  in 
eighteenth-century  language.  Conservatively  inclined 
individuals  did  not  fail  to  deplore,  as  they  do  at  every 
fresh  Franco- American  marriage,  the  invasion  of  the 
aristocracy  by  foreigners.  As  Jacques  and  his  mother 
were  generally  liked  though,  there  was  a  certain 
amount  of  sincerity  in  the  congratulations  they 
received. 

On  the  day  after  her  engagement,  Annie  wrote  to 
her  two  aunts  to  tell  them  of  her  approaching  mar- 
riage. As  she  felt  perfectly  free  to  do  as  she  liked, 
she  did  not  attempt  to  beat  about  the  bush  or  to 
soften  the  blow  for  them.  She  found  words  to  express 
her  deep  feeling  in  the  matter  very  briefly  and  to  make 

198 


AMERICAN  NOBILITY  199 

them  understand  that  all  remonstrance  would  be  in 
vain.  She  wrote  straight  off,  without  the  slightest 
hesitation  or  regret,  only  stopping,  from  time  to  time, 
to  look  at  the  Anguilhon  ring  on  her  finger,  the  initials 
and  crown  of  which  gave  her  the  sensation  of  the  tie 
which  now  existed  between  Jacques  and  herself.  She 
enclosed  his  photograph  in  her  letter,  hoping  that 
the  sight  of  this  handsome  nobleman  might  appease  the 
wrath  of  her  aunts  and  justify  her  choice.  By  the 
same  post,  she  sent  a  letter  to  Mr.  Barnett's  sister, 
which  was  really  intended  for  Frank  himself,  and  this 
letter  was  not  an  easy  one  to  write.  Like  all  women, 
though,  in  similar  circumstances,  Annie  found  a  way 
to  ease  her  own  conscience,  although  it  might  not  serve 
to  lessen  the  grief  that  she  would  cause. 

Jacques'  first  care  was  to  free  his  mind  of  every- 
thing relating  to  the  African  expedition.  He  wrote  to 
George  Delorme  telling  him  faithfully  the  story  of  his 
engagement  and  the  struggle  he  had  had  with  himself. 
After  this,  wishing  as  far  as  possible  to  soften  the 
bad  effect  of  his  desertion,  he  went  to  Paris  to  see 
Captain  Richard,  who  had  just  arrived  there.  The 
sight  of  the  young  explorer's  bronzed  face,  his  mus- 
cular body,  so  thin  after  all  he  had  gone  through, 
and  his  eyes  shining  with  the  light  of  conviction 
and  enthusiasm,  gave  Jacques  a  thrill  of  envy.  Feel- 
ing keen  sympathy  with  him,  and  not  wanting  to 
be  too  severely  judged,  he  explained  very  frankly  his 
position. 

Captain  Richard  expressed  his  regret  at  losing  his 
collaboration,  but  congratulated  him  warmly  and 
added : 

"  Any  one  would  have  done  the  same,  under  the 
circumstances." 


200  AMERICAN  NOBILITY 

These  words,  uttered  without  the  slightest  intention 
of  hurting  Jacques'  feelings,  brought  the  blood  to  his 
face  just  as  a  blow  might  have  done.  A  d'Anguilhon 
ought  not  to  have  acted  as  every  one  might  have  done, 
he  said  to  himself. 

After  this  duty  had  been  discharged,  though,  he  felt 
more  free  and  gave  himself  up,  heart  and  soul,  to  the 
happiness  which  had  been  allotted  to  him. 

Annie  was  intensely  happy,  and  happy  because  she 
herself  was  in  love.  All  the  chords  of  her  heart  vibrated 
now,  even  those  of  devotion  and  self-sacrifice,  chords 
which  no  man  had  hitherto  succeeded  in  touching.  The 
idea  that  she  was  going  to  restore  to  Jacques  the  wealth 
of  which  he  had  been  deprived  filled  her  with  joy, 
and  the  various  sacrifices  she  kept  making  to  his  will 
or  to  his  taste  gave  her  exquisite  pleasure.  Then,  too, 
besides  her  own  great  happiness,  there  were  a  hundred 
little  details  which  caused  her  pleasure.  Her  French 
friends,  old  and  young  alike,  were  delighted  about 
this  marriage.  Guy  de  Nozay  was  quietly  triumphant 
and  showed  her  the  most  cordial  friendship.  The 
Duchess  no  longer  treated  her  as  a  foreigner,  but  as 
an  equal,  and  this  flattered  her.  The  affectionate  wel- 
come with  which  she  was  always  greeted  at  La 
Bluette  made  her  feel  proud,  and  she  liked  the 
Marchioness  d'Anguilhon  better  after  every  visit. 

According  to  American  custom,  Mrs.  Villars  left  the 
engaged  couple  absolute  liberty.  Far  from  watching 
over  them,  which  she  would  have  deemed  oflFensive  for 
her  daughter,  she  always  withdrew  discreetly  when 
she  found  them  either  in  the  library  or  drawing-room. 
Jacques  was,  at  first,  somewhat  disconcerted  by  this 
extraordinary  confidence.  Annie  was  so  simple  though 
and  so  reserved  always,  when  they  were  alone,  that 


AMERICAN  NOBILITY  201 

he  never  dreamed  of  being  otherwise  himself  than  most 
Bcriipulously  correct. 

In  the  course  of  their  conversation,  Annie  told  him 
of  the  extraordinary  effect  that  the  Versailles  portrait 
had  produced  on  her,  and  Jacques  was  amazed  to  hear 
in  what  a  curious  way  she  had  first  become  interested 
in  him. 

To  the  great  consternation  of  her  mother  and  cousin, 
Annie  consented  to  the  date  of  the  wedding  being  fixed 
for  the  25th  of  October.  Mrs.  Villars  was  quite 
alarmed  at  the  thought  of  her  daughter  being  married 
in  a  foreign  country,  but  the  Keradieus  promised  to 
help  her  with  everything  and  to  return  to  Paris  early 
in  October. 

On  the  2nd  of  September,  the  Marchioness  d'An- 
guilhon  and  her  son  and  the  three  American  women 
left  Deauville. 


When  Annie  entered  her  bedroom  again  at  the  Hotel 
de  Castiglione,  Catherine,  who  was  just  behind  her, 
exclaimed : 

"  Oh,  Miss  Annie,  who  would  have  thought  it !  " 

"  Yes,  indeed.  Who  would  have  thought  that  I 
should  come  back  here  engaged ! " 

And  in  an  effusion  of  sudden  joy,  she  threw  her 
arms  round  her  nurse's  neck  and  kissed  her. 


CHAPTER  XXII 

Two  months  was  rather  a  short  time  for  all  the 
necessary  preparations  for  the  wedding.  Legal  papers 
had  to  be  obtained  from  New  York,  business  matters 
had  to  be  settled,  and  Annie's  trousseau  ordered. 

Every  morning,  after  receiving  her  flowers  from 
Jacques,  she  would  set  out  with  her  mother  and  Clara, 
and  the  whole  day  would  be  spent  in  shopping  and 
at  the  dressmaker's.  All  this  entertained  Mrs.  Villars 
more  than  it  did  the  two  girls. 

The  approach  of  her  wedding-day  is  always  a  time 
of  great  excitement  for  the  French  girl.  She  experi- 
ences, at  this  moment  of  her  life,  all  kinds  of  fresh 
sensations  and  of  delightful  emotions.  The  thought 
that  she  is  about  to  become  a  married  woman,  that 
she  will  have  diamonds,  lace,  cambric  or  silk  linen, 
that  she  will  be  able  to  wear  the  pretty  dressing-gowns 
and  tea-gowns  for  which  she  has  longed,  and  altogether 
the  prospect  of  being  free  at  last — all  this  causes  her 
such  delight  as  an  American  girl  can  never  know, 
accustomed  as  she  has  always  been  to  every  luxury 
and  having  already  tasted  much  of  what  life  has  to 
offer. 

Annie  prepared  for  her  wedding  as  though  it  had 
been  that  of  another  person.  She  was  so  busy  that 
she  had  not  time  to  realise  that  she  was  alive  and  she 
certainly  had  no  time  for  thought.     Now  and  again, 

203 


AMERICAN  NOBILITY  203 

when  it  flashed  upon  her  that  she  was  about  to  become 
Jacques'  wife,  she  was  almost  frightened.  The  thought 
of  it  was  both  sweet  and  terrible  to  her.  She  adored 
him,  but,  strangely  enough,  she  could  not  get  used  to 
him.  The  innate  haughtiness  of  his  character  and  the 
difference  of  race  and  language  seemed  to  place  him, 
as  it  were,  at  a  certain  distance  from  her.  He  ap- 
peared to  her  as  a  being  full  of  secrets  and  mysteries. 
The  thought  that  he  would  be  her  husband,  just  as  her 
father  had  been  the  husband  of  her  mother,  disturbed 
her  mind  so  much  that  she  refrained  from  dwelling 
on  it. 

Annie  went  to  see  Madame  d'Anguilhon  frequently. 
She  had  never,  hitherto,  asked  the  advice  of  any  one, 
but  she  was  glad  now  to  have  the  opinion  of  her 
fiance's  mother  constantly.  On  this  foreign  soil,  her 
footing  was  not  firm  and  she  felt  instinctively  the 
need  of  a  guide.  When  she  arrived  at  Madame  d'An- 
guilhon's  in  the  Rue  de  Bellechasse,  with  her  hands 
full  of  flowers,  the  Marchioness  felt  that  she  was  like 
a  vision  of  youth  and  hope,  in  her  elegant  dress,  with 
her  dazzling  complexion,  and  her  hair  glinting  with 
gold.  The  old  Faubourg  St.  Germain  dwelling  de- 
lighted Annie.  A  curious  feeling  of  comfort  came 
over  her  and  a  sensation  of  tranquillity.  It  was  as 
though  she  had  suddenly  been  transported  hundreds 
of  leagues  from  Paris  and  from  modern  life.  The  old 
tapestry  and  the  antique  furniture  appealed  to  her 
and  made  her  feel  something  of  the  charm  of  the  past. 

As  she  had  expected,  Annie  received  letters  full  of 
sharp  reproach  from  her  aunts  and  also  from  her 
lawyer,  who  had  been  her  father's  friend  and  was  now 
her  guardian.  She  read  them  with  a  little  defiant 
smile,  deliberately  passing  over  the  parts  which  she 


204       ^  AMERICAN  NOBILITY 

saw  contained  insinuations  against  Jacques.  The  reply 
from  Frank  Barnett's  sister  disturbed  her  mind  much 
more  than  the  other  letters.  Mrs.  Adair  told  her  very- 
si  mply  that  her  brother  had  not  been  surprised,  as 
he  had  been  expecting  this  for  some  time.  He  sent 
her  his  sincere  good  wishes  for  her  future  happiness. 
This  was  heaping  coals  of  fire  on  her  head,  but  she 
was  too  happy  to  feel  them  much. 

Jacques  had  intended  selling  the  tapestry  and  pic- 
tures he  still  had,  in  order  to  pay  back  to  Madame 
de  T^ne  the  sum  she  had  advanced  and  also  the  amount 
he  had  undertaken  to  pay  her.  Monsieur  de  Froissy, 
imagining  that  his  nephew's  financial  circumstances 
were  probably  not  very  brilliant  just  now,  handed  him 
a  wedding  present  of  two  hundred  thousand  francs. 
Jacques  could  not  help  smiling  to  himself  as  he 
thought  of  the  old  proverb  that  Fortune  always  favours 
the  happy  people.  Madame  de  Froissy  had  bought  in 
a  great  deal  of  the  Anguilhon  jewellery  and  she  now 
presented  it  all  to  her  nephew. 

Although  Annie  was  marrying  a  very  poor  nobleman, 
she  would  nevertheless  have  a  wonderful  diamond  neck- 
lace, laces  fit  for  a  queen,  fans,  and  other  valuable 
objects  which  had  been  royal  presents.  She  could  not 
help  feeling  very  proud  of  this  and  it  even  inspired 
Clara  with  a  certain  amount  of  respect. 

When  it  came  to  the  question  of  the  contract,  Annie 
wanted  to  know  the  French  law.  She  had  several 
interviews  with  the  family  lawyer  of  the  Marchioness, 
who  for  the  first  time  in  his  life,  and  to  his  great 
amazement,  had  to  explain  the  French  code  to  a  girl. 
When  she  had  thoroughly  understood,  Annie  an- 
nounced that  she  preferred  being  married  under  the 
proviso  that  she  and  her  husband  had  joint  possession 


AMERICAN  NOBILITY  ^      205 

of  all  the  money  they  had  between  them,  as  she  con- 
sidered that  this  was  the  only  way  of  maintaining  their 
mutual  dignity.  The  American  lawyer  pointed  out  to 
her  the  fact  that  she  risked  being  ruined  in  this  way, 
and  her  mother  beseeched  her  not  to  give  such  power 
to  her  husband.  Jacques  himself  opposed  this  act  of 
generosity,  but  Annie  was  as  firm  as  a  rock. 

Thanks  to  the  young  girl's  promptness  and  activity, 
to  the  help  of  the  Keradieus,  to  the  transatlantic  cable, 
and  to  a  plentiful  supply  of  money,  everything  was 
ready  for  the  day  appointed. 

On  the  evening  before  the  wedding,  Jacques  was 
walking  under  the  arcades  up  and  down  the  Rue  de 
Castiglione  with  Henri  de  Keradieu.  They  were  dis- 
cussing the  arrangements  for  the  following  day. 

"  Tell  me,"  said  Jacques,  suddenly  breaking  off,  "  was 
your  wife  as  calm  as  Annie?" 

The  Baron  laughed. 

"  Quite  as  calm,"  he  answered,  "  and  I  was  just  as 
astonished  as  you  are.  We  French  people  are  absurd," 
he  continued.  "  We  marry  foreigners,  but  we  expect 
them  to  be  just  like  French  girls." 

"  I  do  not  want  that,  but  I  must  own  that  Annie's 
coolness  astounds  me,  and  all  the  more  so  as  I  am 
told  that  American  girls  are  not  by  any  means,  morally 
speaking,  ingenuesj' 

"  No,  it  is  very  probable  that  Miss  Villars  knows 
life's  secret.  She  is  too  pure-minded  though  to  talk 
of  it  in  all  its  ugliness  or  beauty.  I  expect  she 
simply  wonders  whether  marriage  will  be  pleasant  or 
unpleasant." 

"  She  has  attended  to  every  detail  of  the  wedding 
ceremony.  I  verily  believe  she  will  know,  to  a  sou, 
how  much  it  has  cost." 


20G       .  AMERICAN  NOBILITY 

"  I  am  sure  she  would  know  that.  Just  think  that 
from  the  age  of  eighteen,  she  has  been  virtually  her 
own  mistress.  She  has  paid  for  her  dresses  and  all 
her  personal  expenses,  so  that  she  knows  exactly  how 
much  everything  costs.  An  American  woman,  you 
know,  may  give  a  million  away  to  a  friend  or  to  some 
charity,  but  she  would  not  allow  a  tradesman  to  charge 
her  ten  francs  too  much  for  anything.  I  do  not  know 
of  any  woman  who  has  such  a  horror  of  being  deceived. 
You  may  be  quite  sure  of  one  thing  though.  Miss 
Villars  loves  you  more  than  anybody  or  anything  in 
this  world  and  she  has  never  loved  any  one  but  you. 
Can  you  take  a  piece  of  good  advice  and  profit  by  my 
experience?" 

"  I  fancy  I  can." 

"  Well,  then,  get  into  the  way  of  talking  English 
with  Annie.  That  magnificent  language,  which  neither 
lends  itself  to  exaggeration  nor  to  sentimentality,  will 
give  you  the  key  to  her  character.  Then  go  and  spend 
a  few  months  in  the  United  States.  America  will 
strengthen  your  nature  and  Europe  will  soften  Annie's 
and  you  will  finally  arrive  at  as  perfect  a  union  as 
that  which  exists  between  Antoinette  and  me." 

"  Amen,"  said  Jacques,  speaking  from  the  bottom  of 
his  heart. 


CHAPTER  XXIII 

On  the  25th  of  October,  at  eight  o'clock  in  the 
morning,  Catherine  went  into  Annie's  room  and  woke 
her  gently. 

"  For  the  last  time,  my  dear,"  she  said,  giving  her 
her  cup  of  coffee  and  laying  a  magnificent  spray  of 
roses  on  the  bed. 

"  Why  for  the  last  time?  "  asked  Annie  thoughtlessly. 

"Why?     Oh,  Miss  Annie,  how  can  you  ask  that?" 

A  deep  flush  suffused  the  girl's  face,  her  hand 
trembled  slightly,  and  she  lay  for  a  few  seconds 
without  speaking  and  with  eyelids  lowered. 

"  Yes,  it  is  true,"  she  said  at  last,  handing  her  cup 
back  to  Catherine.  "  My  life  will  be  changed.  In 
spite  of  my  wedding  yesterday  at  the  Mairie  and  at 
the  Consulate,  I  cannot  realise  that  I  am  actually 
the  Marchioness  d'Anguilhon." 

"  I  realise  it,  though,  only  too  well,"  said  Catherine, 
with  a  sigh. 

"  Oh,  now  do  not  begin  to  whimper,  please.  As  you 
have  so  foolishly  accustomed  me  to  this  cup  of  cofifee, 
you  shall  bring  me  one  every  morning  to  my  dressing- 
room  and,  whenever  you  feel  inclined,  you  can  bring 
me  some  flowers  too,"  added  Annie,  smelling  the  roses 
in  delight. 

"  You  are  an  angel,"  said  Catherine,  looking  radiant. 

Annie  kissed  her  faithful  friend  affectionately  and 
then  pushed  her  gently  away. 

207 


208  AMERICAN  NOBILITY 

"  Now,  we  must  not  both  begin  to  cry,''  she  said, 
**  it  is  most  silly.  You  are  always  suggesting  tearful 
ideas,"  she  added  drolly.  "  I  must  not  have  a  red  nose 
and  swollen  eyes  to-day.  I  want  to  do  honour  to  Mon- 
sieur d'Anguilhon  and  to  America  too.  Just  think 
how  I  am  going  to  be  stared  at,  picked  to  pieces,  and 
criticised." 

Just  at  this  moment,  the  two  doors  leading  into 
Annie's  room  were  opened  simultaneously. 

"  It  is  fine  weather,"  announced  Mrs.  Villars. 

"  It  is  a  fine  day,  Annie,"  exclaimed  Clara. 

"  So  much  the  better,"  she  answered,  clapping  her 
hands.     "  *  Happy  the  bride  whom  the  sun  shines  on  ' !  " 


A  few  hours  later,  the  big  doors  of  St.  Clotilde's 
Church  were  opened  for  Annie  to  pass.  The  Church 
was  as  full  as  though  it  were  a  special  f^te  day.  The 
triumphal  notes  of  a  wedding  march  pealed  forth  under 
the  arches,  and  the  bride,  looking  very  pretty  in  her 
white  satin  dress  and  tulle  veil  of  marvellously  fine 
texture,  walked  up  the  aisle  on  the  arm  of  the  Am- 
bassador of  the  United  States.  Her  head  was  very 
erect  and  her  eyes  were  fixed  on  the  chancel,  which, 
with  its  gildings,  its  light,  and  flowers  looked  like  a 
corner  of  Paradise. 

On  arriving  in  front  of  the  high  altar,  Jacques  bowed 
low.  Annie,  with  a  little  touch  of  her  finger,  adjusted 
one  of  her  sleeves  which  she  saw  was  slightly  turned 
round.  An  American  would  not  fail  to  do  that  if 
she  were  on  her  way  to  the  scaffold. 

The  Marchioness  d'Anguilhon  had  asked  Monseigneur 
Mermillod,  the  Bishop  of  Geneva,  to  come  and  pro- 
nounce his  benediction   at  her  son's   wedding.      The 


AMERICAN  NOBILITY  209 

Bishop,  with  his  golden  voice  and  his  poetical  tem- 
perament, gave  one  of  his  most  charming  addresses. 
After  briefly  referring  to  the  early  history  of  the 
Anguilhons,  and  speaking  of  their  brilliant  deeds 
which  had  won  for  them  a  prominent  place  in  the 
history  of  their  country,  he  exhorted  the  Marquis  to 
])rove  himself  worthy  of  his  race,  adding  that  he  owed 
constancy  and  affection  to  the  woman  who  was  about 
to  say  to  him  as  Ruth  said  to  Naomi,  "  Thy  God 
shall  be  my  God,  and  thy  country  my  country."  Mon- 
seigneur  Mermillod  then  said  to  the  bride  that  she  came 
from  a  country  in  which  Catholicism  was  making  rapid 
progress,  from  a  country  that  was  fertilised  by  the 
sun  of  liberty,  and  that  she  ought  to  employ  the  forces 
she  brought  from  it  in  good  works.  He  added  that 
every  Marchioness  d'Anguilhon  had  been  a  faithful 
wife,  and  a  perfect  Christian  woman,  and  that  she 
should  endeavour  to  equal  them  all  in  moral  grandeur 
in  order  to  leave  behind  her,  as  they  had  all  done,  a 
memory  that  was  respected  and  reverenced. 

A  French  girl  would  probably  have  only  heard  in 
these  words  a  fine  piece  of  oratory.  They  penetrated 
to  Annie's  very  soul  and  Jacques,  who  was  watching 
her  furtively,  was  very  much  struck  by  the  serious 
expression  of  her  face. 

During  the  Mass,  Annie  was  conscientiously  reading 
the  marriage  service  in  her  English  Protestant  prayer- 
book.  And  it  was  to  be  thus  throughout  her  life.  She 
would  speak  a  different  language  from  that  of  her 
husband,  she  would  love  in  another  way,  and  would 
follow  a  parallel  but  different  route  and  would  never 
be  in  perfect  communion  with  him. 

When  Jacques  felt  Annie  leaning  on  his  arm,  he 
experienced  a  triumphant  joy  and  the  deepest  emotion. 


210  AMERICAN  NOBILITY 

The  curiosity  of  the  crowd  made  him  inwardly  gnash 
his  teeth.  He  would  have  given  a  great  deal  to  be 
able  to  escape  from  it  and  from  the  customary 
congratulations. 

An  endless  stream  of  people  came  into  the  vestry, 
as  friends  from  the  most  distant  chA.teaux  were  there. 
The  women,  always  more  or  less  affected  by  the  mar- 
riage ceremony,  congratulated  the  bride  and  bride- 
groom. The  men,  with  their  hats  on  the  ends  of  their 
sticks  and  their  eyes  rather  brighter  than  usual,  paid 
compliments  and  made  pretty  speeches,  as  they  moved 
about  among  the  crowd  of  well-dressed  women.  Im- 
pressions and  criticisms  were  exchanged  on  every 
side. 

"  What  do  you  think  of  the  new  Marchioness  ?  "  the 
Count  de  Bar  asked  one  of  his  friends. 

"  Pretty,  but  rather  stiff,"  was  the  reply. 

"  Jacques  will  put  her  right.  He  has  no  equal  for 
training  a  horse  or  a  woman." 

"  \Miat  a  time  he  will  have  with  sixty  millions  to 
handle!" 

"  These  American  women  do  not  deny  themselves  any 
luxuries.  Miss  Villars  is  buying  one  of  our  oldest 
names." 

"  Yes,  but  she  is  giving  a  good  price  for  it." 

"  Where  are  they  going  for  the  honeymoon  ?  " 

"  To  Cannes,  to  the  Count  de  Froissy's  place,  the 
Chateau  de  St.  Michel." 

"  Well,  Jacques  will  have  a  good  time  at  the  ChMeau 
de  St.  Michel,  I  should  think,"  said  the  Count  de  Bar. 

A  little  farther  away,  two  American  girls  were 
making  their  comments. 

"  Annie's  dress  is  too  simple,"  said  one  of  them. 

"  I  expect  she  wanted  to  look  as  though  she  really 


AMERICAN  NOBILITY  211 

belonged  to  the  Faubourg  St.  Germain,"  observed  the 
other  one. 

"  What  do  you  think  of  the  Marquis?  " 

"  I  never  saw  such  a  handsome  Frenchman." 

"  How  mad  her  aunts  will  be  to  see  Annie  marrying 
a  poverty-stricken  nobleman,  just  as  though  she  were 
a  parvenue!" 

"  Yes,  but  then  she  is  not  marrying  him  for  his  title. 
She  is  over  head  and  ears  in  love  with  him." 

"  I  do  not  wonder." 

"  Why  is  there  no  reception,  this  afternoon,  at  the 
hotel  where  Mrs.  Villars  is  staying?" 

"  The  Marquis  did  not  like  the  idea  of  it." 

"  He  looks  horribly  proud.  I  expect  he  will  forbid 
Annie  seeing  her  old  friends." 

"  Oh,  she  will  hold  her  own.  She  is  not  a  Villars 
for  nothing." 

"  It  must  be  very  exciting  to  marry  a  foreigner." 

"  Yes,  it  must  be  great  fun." 

And  with  these  characteristic  remarks,  the  two  girl;* 
passed  on  into  the  vestry,  in  order  to  see  the  Marquis 
more  closely,  so  that  they  could  describe  him  in  their 
letters. 

The  wedding-breakfast  was  given  at  the  H6tel  de 
Castiglione  and  only  a  few  intimate  friends  were 
present. 

The  table,  strewn  with  rare  flowers,  and  the  guests 
in  their  beautiful  dresses,  formed  a  pretty  picture. 

Madame  d'Anguilhon,  now  the  Dowager  Marchioness, 
seemed  to  have  grown  younger,  thanks  to  her  son's 
happiness.  Mrs.  Villars,  with  her  delicate  features 
and  her  white  hair,  looked  like  a  living  Nattier. 

The  repast  was  charming.  Clara  was  no  more 
reconciled  to  her  cousin's  marriage  than  she  had  been 


212  AMERICAN  NOBILITY 

at  first,  but  she  endeavoured  to  put  a  good  face  on 
the  matter.  She  appeared  to  be  very  gay,  but  those 
who  knew  her  were  quite  aware  that  she  was  entirely 
dependent  on  her  glass  of  champagne  for  her  gaiety. 

The  Duchess,  looking  exquisite  in  a  dress  of  pinky 
mauve,  sat  to  the  right  of  Jacques.  She  talked  with 
nervous  animation  and  her  eyes  had  a  strangely 
bright  light  in  them.  The  bride  seemed  to  exercise 
a  sort  of  fascination  over  her,  for  she  kept  looking  at 
her.  She  watched  her  with  intense  curiosity  and,  from 
time  to  time,  an  enigmatic  smile  played  over  her 
lips. 

As  to  Annie,  she  was  really  very  pretty,  for  the 
emotion  she  felt  tinged  her  face  with  pink  and  her 
happiness  made  her  look  unusually  gentle.  She 
avoided  meeting  her  husband's  eyes,  but  she  could  feel 
them  constantly  fixed  upon  her  and  this  embarrassed 
her  so  much  that  she  did  not  understand  what  Guy 
de  Nozay  was  saying  to  her. 

Jacques  played  his  part  with  all  the  ease  of  a  grand 
seigneur.  He  looked  frankly  happy  and  he  was  in- 
wardly enjoying  the  shyness  and  dread  that  he  saw 
depicted  on  his  wife's  face. 

After  the  breakfast,  Christiane  and  the  Marquis 
found  themselves  alone  for  a  minute. 

"  Well,  was  the  ceremony  as  terrible  as  you  had 
imagined?"  asked  the  Duchess. 

"No,  I  was  seized  at  once  by  a  sort  of  religious 
emotion,"  he  answered.  "  It  seemed  to  take  me  back 
to  the  day  of  my  first  communion,  I  might  say  of  our 
first  communion,"  added  Jacques  with  a  smile.  "  It 
was  most  curious.  I  saw  you  again  just  as  you  were 
that  day,  very  slender  and  very  pretty,  with  your  blue 
eyes  and  a  sort  of  cloud  of  white  all  round  you.     I 


AMERICAN  NOBILITY  213 

saw  myself,  too,  distinctly,  a  little  boy  with  fair  hair, 
wearing  a  black  suit  and  a  white  armlet  as  the  symbol 
of  innocence.  On  finding  myself  kneeling  before  the 
same  altar  on  my  wedding-day,  with  the  wax  taper  in 
my  hand,  I  felt  deeply  moved.  You  see,  one  may  no 
longer  be  a  Catholic,  but  it  is  good  to  have  been  one. 
Catholicism  leaves  memories  in  our  lives  which  can 
never  be  effaced." 

"  And  you  are  happy  ?  " 

"  More  so  than  I  can  express." 

"  Then  everything  is  right,"  said  the  Duchess. 

She  then  asked,  in  an  abrupt  tone,  as  though  to  cut 
short  anj'^  sentimentality: 

"  When  do  you  intend  returning  to  Paris?  " 

"  In  about  four  months,  probably.  The  Portuguese 
Embassy  will  leave  our  house  in  December.  The 
architect  will  then  take  possession  and  all  will  be 
ready  for  us,  I  hope,  by  the  end  of  February.  Are 
you  not  glad  to  have  us  for  neighbours?" 

"  Oh,  very  glad,"  replied  Christiane,  with  an  ironical 
note  in  her  voice  that  grated  on  Jacques'  ears.  "  I 
am  curious  to  see  what  marriage  will  do  for  you.  It 
changes  a  man  as  much  as  it  does  a  woman." 

"  There  is  one  thing  it  will  never  change,  and  that 
is  my  friendship  with  you.  Do  not  imagine  that  you 
are  going  to  get  rid  of  me.  I  could  not  do  without 
your  advice  and  your  friendship.  And  first  of  all,  you 
must  let  me  write  to  you." 

"Write  to  me?"  exclaimed  the  Duchess.  "You 
want  to  write  to  me  while  you  are  on  your  wedding 
tour?" 

"Why  not?  I  am  so  much  in  the  habit  of  telling 
you  everything  that  I  am  sure  I  shall  want  to  tell 
you  my  impressions.     Do  you  know  what  you  ought 


214  AMERICAN  NOBILITY 

to  do?"  said  the  Marquis,  as  though  struck  with  a 
luminous  idea. 

"What  ought  I  to  do?" 

"  You  do  not  know  Rome.  Well,  come  and  join  us 
there." 

"  You  are  mad." 

Anger  and  pain  gave  such  an  extraordinary  ex- 
pression to  Christiane's  words  that  Jacques  looked  at 
her  in  surprise. 

"Mad— why?" 

"  Because " 

Jacques  bowed. 

"  When  a  woman  gives  me  that  reason,  I  never 
insist,"  he  said,  smiling. 

"  You  are  w^ise,"  remarked  the  Duchess,  drily.  She 
then  continued  speaking,  but  in  a  gentler  tone. 

"  Enough  of  all  that,"  she  said.  "  Be  happy.  I 
wish  you  a  blissful  honeymoon.  Write  to  me,  if  you 
want  to,"  she  added,  moving  away  in  the  direction  of 
Annie's  room. 

The  newly-married  couple  were  to  spend  the  month 
of  November  at  the  Chateau  de  St.  Michel,  near  Cannes, 
and  then  to  continue  their  journey.  Mrs.  Villars  and 
Clara  were  to  join  them  in  Rome. 

Annie  had  expressed  a  wish  to  go  and  see  Jacques' 
flat,  before  leaving  Paris,  and  Madame  d'Anguilhou 
had  invited  them  to  dinner  with  her  afterwards. 

They  were  then  to  drive  away  from  there  to  the 
station. 

Towards  five  o'clock,  the  young  Marchioness,  after 
silently  kissing  and  embracing  her  mother  and  Clara, 
went  with  her  husband  to  the  carriage,  filled  with 
flowers,  which  was  waiting  to  take  them  to  the  Rue 
de  Bellechasse. 


AMERICAN  NOBILITY  215 

From  the  balcony  of  the  hotel,  Catherine  threw  an 
old  slipper  and  some  rice,  the  old  slipper  to  preserve 
them  from  all  ill,  according  to  the  Irish  superstition, 
and  the  rice  for  good  luck.  At  the  very  same  moment, 
the  Duchess  left  the  Hdtel  de  Castiglione.  She  might 
have  been  the  evil  fairy,  whose  approach  renders  all 
charms  powerless. 

Guy  de  Nozay  accompanied  her  to  her  carriage. 

"  They  are  off  to  the  seventh  heaven,"  he  said. 

"  Let  us  hope  they  may  stay  there,"  she  answered. 

"  They  would  be  the  first  to  do  so.  Either  people 
never  get  there,  or  they  arrive  and  then  fall  out  of  it 
again,  with  their  wings  broken.  Our  friends  belong 
to  the  first  catego^3^" 

"  Did  you  ever  have  your  wings  broken  ?  " 

"  No,  for  the  simple  reason  that  I  have  only  met 
with  one  woman  in  my  life  with  whom  I  would  have 
risked  trying  the  climb.  She  refused  and  so  I  decided 
to  remain  on  earth  near  her." 

"  You  acted  wisely  and  your  friendship  is  very  pre- 
cious to  her,"  said  the  Duchess.  "  Adieu,"  she  added, 
holding  out  her  hand  to  the  Viscount.  "  I  shall  see 
you  next  week  at  Blanzac." 


CHAPTER  XXIV 

Christiane  had  always  had  a  presentiment  that 
there  would  be  an  absorbing  love  affair  in  her  life 
some  time.  The  affection  she  had  had  for  the  Duke 
de  Blanzac  could  not  be  called  love,  or  rather  it  was 
the  love  of  a  young  girl,  knowing  nothing  of  life  or 
of  her  own  nature.  She  had  said  to  herself  that, 
sooner  or  later,  it  would  be  her  turn  to  feel  the  ecstasy 
and  rapture  which  most  creatures  experience.  She  was 
tired  of  being  loved,  worshipped,  and  obeyed  by  others. 
She  wanted  to  be  in  love  herself  and  to  sacrifice  herself 
to  some  one.  Never  had  any  woman  had  a  more  ideal 
dream  of  love,  and  the  dream  had  filled  her  solitude. 
She  had  lived  it  over  and  over  again,  revelled  in  it 
and,  as  it  had  kept  her  in  the  high  regions  of  idealism, 
it  had  prevented  her  from  being  carried  away  by  any 
sensual  temptations.  Love  had  not  come  to  her, 
though,  like  a  flash  of  lightning,  as  she  had  expected 
it  would.  It  had  gradually  penetrated  like  poison 
into  her  heart  and  flesh.  Instead  of  a  cry  of  triumph, 
it  had  wrung  from  her  a  cry  of  distress.  In  spite  of 
the  anguish  she  had  felt  when  the  Marquis  had  come 
to  tell  her  of  his  engagement,  she  would  not  admit  to 
herself  that  it  was  possible  for  her  to  be  in  love  with 
him.  She  knew  him  too  well.  He  had  only  a  physical 
superiority,  she  said  to  herself.  He  was  inconstant, 
rather  frivolous,  his  character  was  weak,  and  he  was 

216 


AMERICAN  NOBILITY  217 

so  different,  oh,  so  very  dififerent  from  the  man  of  her 
dream.  She  went  over  his  faults  and  failings  and  her 
clear-sightedness  somewhat  reassured  her.  Alas,  true 
love  is  just  that  which  has  no  bandage  over  its  eyes, 
which  sees  the  faults  and  even  the  vices,  and  goes  on 
loving  all  the  same. 

Christiane  tried  to  make  herself  believe  that  she 
merely  regretted  the  pleasant  intimacy  which  existed 
between  herself  and  Jacques.  When  she  realised, 
though,  that  it  was  impossible  to  delude  herself,  she 
tried  to  cure  herself  of  a  love  that  humiliated  her. 
She  made  use  of  the  most  heroic  means  to  this  end. 
She  forced  herself  to  see  a  great  deal  of  the  engaged 
couple.  She  went  several  times  shopping  with  them, 
helped  Jacques  to  choose  his  presents,  gave  Annie 
advice  about  her  dress,  handled  the  material  for  the 
trousseau,  and  told  the  bride-elect  what  she  thought 
the  Marquis  would  like  best.  She  was  present  at  the 
wedding  and,  in  spite  of  the  pain  it  gave  her,  made 
herself  look  at  the  bride  and  bridegroom  kneeling  side 
by  side.  She  endured  the  torture  of  the  wedding- 
breakfast  and,  as  though  she  found  a  certain  delight 
in  her  intense  suffering,  she  followed  Annie  into  her 
room  and  stayed  with  her  while  she  changed  her  dress, 
looking  at  the  pretty  shape  of  her  shoulders  and  at 
her  beautiful  skin.  When  Jacques  came  into  the  room, 
Christiane  told  him  to  kiss  his  wife  and  she  never 
flinched  as  she  watched  him  obey  her.  She  saw  the 
husband  and  wife  leave,  she  heard  their  carriage 
door  shut,  and  the  sound  seemed  to  go  through  and 
through  her.  When  once  Guy  had  left  her,  she  lay 
back  in  her  carriage,  her  head  against  the  cushion 
and,  closing  her  eyes,  remained  for  some  time  motion- 
less.    Two  great  tears  welled  up  and  fell  from  under- 


218  AMERICAN  NOBILITY 

neath  her  closed  eyelids,  the  first  woman's  tears  she 
had  ever  shed.  She  wiped  them  slowly,  saying  to 
herself  once  more:  "It  will  pass — it  will  pass — I 
shall  soon  forget " 


PART  II 


219 


CHAPTER  I 

Thb  ChMeau  de  St.  Michel  had  been  built  by  an 
Englishman  half-way  up  the  hill  which  dominates  the 
Gulf  of  Juan.  It  was  in  the  style  of  the  abbeys  so 
frequently  seen  in  England.  The  Froissys  had  bought 
it,  they  said,  so  that  they  might  take  refuge  there  in 
their  old  age.  In  this  little  corner  of  Paradise,  there 
was  enough  sun,  blue  sky,  and  beauty,  not  only  for 
gorgeous  sunsets,  but  also  for  radiant  dawns. 

The  newly-married  couple  had  a  house  with  all  the 
refinements  of  luxury  at  their  disposal.  Outside  the 
house,  the  air  was  saturated  with  the  scent  of  flowers. 
There  were  wonderful  stretches  of  verdure,  blue  sky 
over  their  heads,  blue  in  the  horizon,  the  sea  before 
them,  and  a  landscape  that  was  a  dream. 

In  the  Cannes  harbour,  they  found  the  yacht  at 
anchor  which  had  taken  them  round  the  coasts  of 
Normandy  and  Brittany.  The  crew,  who  had  pleasant 
memories  of  the  fiances,  hailed  them  with  cheers  and 
flowers,  as  though  they  had  been  a  royal  couple. 

Annie  and  Jacques  arrived  at  Cannes  after  a  spell 
of  bad  weather.  They  had  an  exceptionally  fine,  warm 
November,  so  that  they  were  able  to  take  long  drives 
in  the  neighbourhood  and  to  make  some  short  sea-trips 
on  the  Sans-Souci.  Annie  kept  making  one  discovery 
after  another  and  was  in  fresh  raptures  all  the  time. 
She  was  glad  to  see  this  south   of  France  at  last, 

221 


222  AMERICAN  NOBILITY 

which  all  her  friends  had  visited.  Seeing  it,  as  she 
now  did,  with  her  heart  full  of  her  own  love,  it  looked 
more  beautiful  to  her  than  it  had  to  any  of  them. 

The  cope  of  poverty,  similar  to  those  leaden  cope.s 
which  Dante  saw  on  the  damned,  had  now  completely 
fallen  from  Jacques'  shoulders,  and  he  felt  as  young 
and  ardent  as  he  had  been  at  twenty.  He  had  no 
other  wish  now  than  to  own  Blonay  once  more,  and 
Bontemps  held  out  this  hope  to  him. 

From  the  very  first  hour  of  their  married  life,  the 
Marquis  realised  how  thoroughly  foreign  Annie  was. 
She  was  the  simple  and  prosaic  Eve  of  the  New  World, 
as  absolutely  different  from  the  complex  Eve  of  the 
Old  World  as  it  was  possible  for  two  creatures  of  the 
same  species  to  be.  With  her,  he  had  the  sensation 
of  biting  some  beautiful  fruit,  sound,  but  not  yet  ripe, 
the  slight  sourness  of  which  was  nevertheless  agree- 
able. Her  brief  caresses,  her  limpid  eyes,  and  her  cool 
hands  did  not  send  him  into  any  ecstasies,  but  she 
revealed  to  him  the  sweetness  of  love  without  either 
art  or  artifice. 

Annie  had  accepted  marriage  with  a  frank,  simple 
joy  and  matter-of-factness  which  had  disconcerted 
Jacques.  Some  of  her  speeches  were  so  characteristic 
and  so  extraordinary  to  a  Frenchman's  ears,  that  he 
could  not  help  laughing  to  himself  at  them.  He  was 
only  sorry  that  delicacy  forbade  his  repeating  them  to 
a  friend. 

Jacques  wanted  to  have  his  wife  thoroughly  in  hand, 
so  he  took  the  trouble  to  study  her  carefully.  His 
dressing-room  was  next  to  hers  and,  through  the  half- 
open  door,  he  often  heard  her  discussions  and  con- 
versations with  Catherine.  He  was  immensely  amused 
by  them  and  they  helped  him  to  understand  her  char- 


AMERICAN  NOBILITY  223 

acter.  He  was  glad  to  see  that  his  wife's  maid  was 
beginning  to  approve  of  him,  for  it  would  have  been 
disagreeable  to  feel  that  Annie  had  any  one  near  her 
who  was  hostile  to  him.  He  had  had  no  difficulty  in 
winning  over  the  Irishwoman.  He  knew  how  to  talk 
to  old  and  trusted  servants  and  he  had  always  had 
some  friendly  word  for  this  one. 

Marriage  had  changed  Annie  visibly.  Her  expres- 
sion was  now  gentler  and  less  childlike.  She  was  less 
independent  in  her  manner  and  not  so  stiff  in  her  move- 
ments. She  wrote  one  day  to  her  cousin :  "  Jacques 
tells  me  that  my  expression  has  changed  and  I  am 
curious  to  hear  what  j-^ou  will  say.  If  it  is  true,"  she 
added,  "  that  happiness  makes  people  more  beautiful, 
then  I  certainly  must  be  very  pretty  now." 

Annie  was  very  happy  in  her  new  life,  not  completely 
happy  perhaps,  as  she  found  it  difficult  to  feel  quite 
at  home  with  her  French  husband.  It  always  seemed 
to  her  that  he  was  a  little  distance  away  from  her. 
His  sensitiveness  and  nervousness  disconcerted  her,  and 
when  she  saw  him  plunged  in  one  of  the  reveries  in 
which  he  so  often  indulged,  she  looked  upon  him  as 
a  phenomenon.  She  had  never  in  her  life  seen  a  man 
dreaming  before. 

In  America,  European  men  are  believed  to  be  full 
of  iniquity,  and  Annie  often  wondered  whether  her 
husband  had  been  very  wicked.  She  longed  to  ques- 
tion him  on  this  subject,  but  she  did  not  dare.  She 
was  very  proud  to  be  the  wife  of  the  Marquis  d'An- 
guilhon  and,  in  spite  of  her  own  reasoning,  the  title 
seemed  to  make  her  feel  greater.  She  liked  the  coronet 
embroidered  on  her  linen  and  on  her  toilet  articles. 
She  was  ashamed  of  her  vanity  at  first,  but  she  came 
to  the  philosophical  conclusion  that  it  was  probably 


224  AMERICAN  NOBILITY 

in  human  nature  to  like  such  things  and  that,  after 
all,  she  was  not  a  goddess. 

The  Count  and  Countess  de  Froissy  returned  to 
their  home  early  in  December,  but  they  insisted  on 
keeping  their  guests  a  week  longer  with  them.  The 
Count  liked  his  new  niece  and  delighted  in  making  her 
talk.  Her  contempt  for  the  routine  of  people  and 
nations  who  do  not  go  with  the  times,  and  her  de- 
liberate avowal  of  her  intention  to  enjoy  life  as  much 
as  possible,  amused  him  immensely. 

"  Annie  is  certainly  the  prettiest  piece  of  prose  that 
any  one  could  ever  read,"  he  said,  one  day,  when  they 
had  been  talking  about  her,  but  he  added,  mentally: 
"  It  is  to  be  hoped  that  that  rascal,  Jacques,  will  be 
satisfied  with  the  prose." 

Towards  the  middle  of  December,  the  Marquis  and 
Marchioness  d'Anguilhon  left  for  Naples,  on  board  the 
Sans-Souci.  taking  away  with  them  fragrant  memories 
enough  for  their  whole  future  life. 


CHAPTER  II 

Mrs.  Villars  and  Clara  spent  the  month  of  November 
with  the  Keradieus  in  Touraine,  and  then  left  for  Rome, 
where  George  Ottis  was  to  join  them. 

The  Marquis  and  Marchioness  d'Anguilhon,  on  arriv- 
ing at  Naples,  had  found  Vesuvius  covered  with  snow 
and  a  deluge  of  rain.  They  shivered  with  cold  every- 
where they  went,  and  when  they  were  tired  of  waiting 
for  the  sun  to  make  its  appearance,  they  decided  to 
go  to  Rome  in  search  of  a  little  more  comfort  and 
enjoyment.  Annie  telegraphed  to  her  mother  to  en- 
gage rooms  for  them  at  the  H6tel  de  I'Europe,  where 
she  was  then  staying. 

The  newly-married  couple  were  awaited  with  im- 
patience and,  on  their  arrival,  they  found  their  drawing- 
room  full  of  flowers,  brilliantly  lighted,  and  enlivened 
by  a  bright  fire.  Jacques  was  touched  by  the  trouble 
that  had  been  taken  in  order  that  they  might  have  a 
pleasant  impression,  and  he  was  most  cordial. 

Clara,  who  was  longing  to  have  a  chat  alone  with 
her  cousin,  soon  carried  her  off,  under  the  pretext  of 
showing  her  to  her  room.  With  the  shyness  of  a  young 
bride,  Annie  had  kept  her  thick  veil  down,  but  Clara 
very  quickly  untied  it  for  her  and  took  it  off. 

"  Let  me  see  this  great  change  you  told  me  of,"  she 
said,  looking  at  Annie  critically.    "  Yes,"  she  added, 
"  it  is  true  that  you  look  different." 
X5  225 


226  AMERICAN  NOBILITY 

"  Do  I  look  better  or  worse?" 

"  I  do  not  know.  Your  eyes  look  larger  and  you 
are  older-looking " 

"  Older  ?  "  exclaimed  Annie,  in  dismay,  hurrying  to 
the  glass. 

"Oh,  I  did  not  mean  that  you  have  wrinkles  yet," 
said  Clara,  laughing,  "  but  now  look,"  she  added,  put- 
ting her  arm  round  her  cousin  and  her  own  face  quite 
close  to  Annie's. 

"  Do  I  not  look  younger  than  you?  "  she  asked. 

"  Yes,  I  must  confess  you  do." 

"  \''ou  are  now  a  wife,  and  a  Marchioness  into  the 
bargain.  That  is  more  than  enough  for  making  any 
one  look  older." 

"  How  is  George?  "  asked  Annie,  by  way  of  changing 
the  subject. 

"  A  little  overworked,  the  dear  boy.  A  few  months 
of  rest  will  set  him  up  again  and  he  richly  deserves 
the  holiday.  His  position  is  made  now.  Not  bad  that, 
at  thirty-two  years  of  age.  Do  you  know,  he  will  stand 
comparison  with  your  husband.  He  belongs  to  an- 
other type,  but  that  is  all.  George  is  like  a  good 
Newfoundland  and  Monsieur  d'Anguilhon  like  one  of 
those  big  greyhounds  that  allow  themselves  to  be  petted 
and  spoilt  like  so  many  Pashas.  I  hope  he  will  not 
give  himself  airs  with  George." 

"  Give  himself  airs !  Jacques !  Oh,  he  is  too  much 
of  a  grand  seigneur  for  that." 

"  Well,  let  us  hope  that  your  greyhound  and  my 
Newfoundland  will  get  on  together." 

"  I  hope  they  will." 

"  I  was  surprised  that  Monsieur  d'Anguilhon  was 
willing  to  put  up  at  this  hotel." 

"  Why  not  ?    Oh,  he  has  a  very  strong  family  feeling. 


AMERICAN  NOBILITY  227 

He  always  says  that  he  cannot  live  long  away  from 
his  mother." 

"  An  American  or  an  Englishman  would  rather  be 
flayed  alive  than  own  such  a  thing." 

Catherine  now  entered  to  help  Annie  to  change  her 
dress. 

"  Well,"  said  Clara,  kissing  her,  "  and  how  is  the 
new  household  getting  on  ?  Have  the  lovers  quarrelled 
yet?" 

"  Quarrelled ! "  exclaimed  Catherine.  "  Ah,  Miss 
Clara,  T  would  not  wish  you  anything  worse  than  as 
beautiful  a  honeymoon  as  your  cousin  has  had." 

George  Ottis  was  introduced  to  Jacques.  As  they 
shook  hands,  the  two  men  evidently  made  a  good  im- 
pression on  each  other,  and  the  cousins,  who  were 
watching  them  anxiously,  exchanged  a  glance  of 
satisfaction. 

Annie  and  her  husband  dined  with  Mrs.  Villars. 
Clara  could  not  help  observing  her  cousin  all  the  time. 
Marriage  certainly  had  changed  the  expression  of 
Annie's  face.  The  tender  way  she  looked  at  her  hus- 
band and  her  deference  to  him  caused  Clara  a  kind 
of  irritation. 

The  dinner  was  very  gay  and  animated,  and  the 
conversation  was  carried  on  in  French  and  English. 
America,  Touraine,  and  Cannes  furnished  plenty  of 
topics  and  George  was  full  of  admiration  for  European 
things. 

"  To  think,"  he  said,  "  that  there  are  people  in  our 
country  who  maintain  that  America  is  superior  to  the 
Old  World!  It  exasperates  me  to  hear  people  talk 
like  that.  They  are  like  children  insulting  their 
ancestor." 

"  Yes,"  added  Mrs.  Villars,  "  we  have  quite  a  strong 


228  AMERICAN  NOBILITY 

party  who  imagine  that  America  ought  to  be  self- 
sufficing  and  who  would  willingly  set  fire  to  the  ocean 
steamers,  in  order  to  prevent  American  women  from 
spending  their  money  in  France  or  elsewhere." 

"Well,  it  is  simply  idiotic,"  said  Mr.  Ottis  em- 
phatically, "  for  the  women  bring  back  ideas  and 
models  which  allow  us  to  work  without  endless  experi- 
ments, so  that,  with  almost  the  first  try,  we  can  reach 
perfection.  Our  goldsmith  work  and  our  materials 
prove  this.  I  reckon  that  the  five  hundred  millions 
we  spend  in  Europe  every  year  must  bring  us  back 
the  double  and  the  triple." 

This  way  of  looking  at  things  and  of  utilising 
feminine  vanity  amused  Jacques  immensely  and  in- 
spired him  with  a  certain  admiration. 

After  dinner,  Clara  was  anxious  to  know  her  fiance's 
opinion. 

"What  do  you  think  of  this  famous  Marquis?"  she 
asked  him. 

"  I  like  him  very  well,  much  better  than  I  expected 
I  should.    What  have  you  against  him  ?  " 

"  Nothing  except  having  stolen  Annie  from  us,  for 
stolen  her  he  certainly  has." 

"  Not  without  her  permission,  I  fancy,  for  she  seems 
very  much  in  love  with  him." 

"  Yes,  she  looks  absolutely  absurd." 

"  Absurd  ?  I  do  not  think  so.  I  should  be  very  glad 
to  see  you  like  that,  some  day." 

"  Heaven  forbid ! "  exclaimed  Clara,  with  comical 
fervour.  "  There  is  no  danger  though,  I  am  made  of 
sterner  stuff,"  she  added. 

In  his  travels,  Jacques  had  hitherto  always  wan- 
dered about  Rome,  without  ever  really  seeing  it.  He 
was   there   now   in   the   best   possible   condition   for 


AMERICAN  NOBILITY  229 

really  seeing  it.  His  mind  was  free  from  care  and 
his  soul  was  sufficiently  full  of  happiness  to  be  able 
to  react  against  the  melancholy  which  emanates  from 
the  Eternal  City. 

The  very  day  after  their  arrival,  Annie  gave  her 
husband  a  specimen  of  that  "  sight-seeing "  which  is 
the  delight  of  the  American  woman,  and  which  she 
considers  one  of  her  duties  here  below. 

As  far  as  the  Marquis  was  concerned,  such  sight- 
seeing was  a  continual  source  of  amusement  and  irrita- 
tion. Every  daj',  Annie  set  out  with  her  Baedeker.  On 
arriving  at  a  museum,  she  would  begin  either  at  the 
right  or  left  wall  of  pictures,  gaze  for  an  instant  at 
her  Guide  and  then  look  up  at  a  painting,  stand  before 
it  a  more  or  less  long  time,  and  then  pass  on  to  the 
next  one.  This  exercise  she  would  repeat  for  hours 
together  with  real  pleasure  and  absolute  conscientious- 
ness. She  was  not  pretending  to  admire,  as  she  really 
enjoyed  the  sight  of  the  masterpieces,  but  they  charmed 
her  eyes  without  making  her  feel  any  emotion  what- 
ever. She  simply  saw  all  the  time,  but  she  did  not 
feel.  She  would  come  back  from  these  artistic  pil- 
grimages half  dead  from  fatigue,  but  she  was  glad 
to  have  employed  her  time  so  well  and,  more  par- 
ticularly, to  have  "  done "  so  much.  On  the  second 
day,  Jacques,  who  did  not  care  about  "  doing "  the 
Vatican,  said  to  his  wife: 

"  Annie,  we  will  each  go  our  own  way  here.  Two 
people  can  never  see  in  the  same  way  and  we  should 
only  interfere  with  each  other." 

"Very  well,"  she  answered  gaily,  little  thinking  how 
much  this  meant.  Several  times,  on  turning  to  look 
at  her  husband,  she  saw  him  lost  in  contemplation 
before  some  picture  or  statue  and  she  said  to  herself, 


230  AMERICAN  NOBILITY 

with  a  little,  superior  smile:  "He  is  seeing  nothing." 
It  was  true  that  he  only  saw  five  or  six  pictures  and 
one  or  two  statues  in  a  whole  museum,  but  he  not  only- 
saw  them,  he  felt  them  too,  and  carried  them  away 
graven  on  his  mind  for  ever.  Certain  of  the  master- 
pieces brought  tears  to  his  eyes.  The  face  of  a 
Madonna,  or  the  figure  of  a  goddess  would  haunt  hira 
for  days  together  and  plunge  him  into  delightful 
reveries. 

In  Rome,  the  hour  of  the  Ave  Maria,  the  Christian 
Mohgreh,  has  a  mysterious  charm  which  the  dreamers, 
the  poets,  and  all  people  with  a  little  refinement,  must 
feel.  There  is,  at  that  moment,  a  passing  of  souls,  as 
it  were,  through  the  air.  Mempries  seem  to  rise  from 
the  very  ground  and  from  the  churches  and  monuments. 
It  seems  as  though  the  past  becomes  the  present  again, 
and  as  though,  for  a  few  moments,  the  dead  mingle 
with  the  living.  Women  return  home  feeling  a  deli- 
cious thrill  and  with  their  senses  stirred.  They  are 
singularly  prepared,  at  such  moments,  for  what  Paul 
Bourget  calls  "  love  crimes." 

Jacques  was  always  strongly  impressed  by  the  Ave 
Maria  hour.  Whenever  he  happened  to  be  outdoors  at 
that  time,  he  suddenly  became  silent,  his  step  slackened 
and,  for  a  few  minutes,  he  fell  under  its  strange 
influence. 

One  evening,  as  he  was  leaving  St.  Peter's,  the  great 
bell  of  the  church  rang  out  the  Angelus.  The  sound 
of  this  bell,  unique  in  the  world,  brought  him  to  a 
standstill  under  the  peristyle.  He  looked  around ;  the 
Square  was  deserted,  but  the  vibrations  of  the  great 
bell  filled  it  with  prayer. 

"  Ah,  how  beautiful  it  is ! "  he  murmured,  deeply 
affected. 


AMERICAN  NOBILITY  231 

"  Superb,  immense !  "  said  Annie.  "  I  do  not  remem- 
ber though,"  she  continued,  "  how  many  feet  the  Square 
and  the  colonnade  measure.    I  must  look." 

These  words  produced  on  Jacques  the  same  effect  as 
a  cold  shower-bath.  His  emotion  ended  in  a  smile. 
He  had  felt  the  spiritual  beauty  of  everything  and 
she  only  the  material  beauty.  Without  noticing  the 
disastrous  effect  she  had  produced,  she  proceeded  to 
open  her  Guide  and  then,  by  the  last  gleams  of  day- 
light, looked  up  the  figures  which,  according  to  her 
way  of  thinking,  gave  the  real  value  to  the  sight  before 
them. 

Jacques  did  not  endeavour  to  bring  Annie  gently 
to  share  his  impressions.  He  kept  them  jealously  to 
himself.  It  is  only  in  very  rare  cases  that  a  man 
shows  himself  just  as  he  really  is.  Whatever  he  may 
say  to  the  contrary,  he  does  not  care  to  be  thoroughly 
understood.  He  is  delighted  to  think  that  there  is 
some  hidden  place  in  his  soul,  some  corner  of  his  mind 
to  which  his  wife  has  no  access.  This  is,  for  him,  so 
much  liberty  that  he  keeps. 

Annie's  nature  and  temperament  made  Jacques' 
thoughts  turn  to  the  woman  who  was  her  living  anti- 
thesis, the  Duchess  de  Blanzac.  They  had  talked  to- 
gether so  much,  discussed  ideas  and  analysed  so  many 
sentiments,  that  now,  with  his  mind  full  of  new 
thoughts,  he  felt  that  he  needed  to  talk  them  over 
with  her. 

"  How  she  would  understand  this  or  that ! "  he  was 
constantly  saying  to  himself,  and  he  would  have  given 
a  great  deal,  at  such  times,  to  have  seen  her  feelings 
reflected  in  her  eyes.  Sometimes  in  a  picture  gallery, 
he  would  come  across  a  portrait  which  resembled  the 
Duchess,  or  a  statue  which  had  some  of  her  lines. 


232  AMERICAN  NOBILITY 

Such  portraits  or  statues  attracted  him  irresistibly, 
and  he  would  remain  looking  at  them  for  a  long  time. 
The  very  first  week  of  his  stay  in  Rome,  he  had  written 
her  a  long  letter,  full  of  his  impressions  and  sensa- 
tions. A  current  of  warm  affection  ran  through  the 
whole  letter.  Christiane  had  answered  it  in  a  gay, 
witty,  ironical  way,  in  an  intentionally  common- 
place style  and,  at  the  end,  she  added  the  following 
postscript : 

"  You  ask  me  why  Rome  does  not  attract  me  ?  It 
does  attract  me  very  much  indeed.  I  am  always  wait- 
ing to  go  there  until  I  am  not  alone,  in  order  to  en- 
joy it  thoroughly.  There,  are  you  satisfied  with  my 
reason  ?  " 

This  postscript,  so  thoroughly  feminine,  and  so 
unconsciously  perverse,  disturbed  Jacques'  tranquillity. 

"  Until  she  is  not  alone,"  he  repeated.  "  Is  she 
thinking  of  marrying  again  then,  I  wonder?" 

"Why  should  she  not?"  he  asked  himself,  but  he 
felt  at  the  same  time,  that,  if  she  did,  he  should  lose 
her  and  that  it  would  be  the  end  of  their  intimacy. 
This  idea  tormented  him  for  several  days.  He  then 
consoled  himself  with  the  thought  that  Christiane 
would  not  easily  resign  herself  to  giving  up  the  wealth 
she  had  inherited  from  her  husband. 

Annie  little  thought  that  she  already  had  a  rival. 
She  had  no  idea  of  the  capacity  of  her  husband's  heart 
and  she  little  knew  what  kisses  his  lips  could  give. 
She  could  not  conceive  of  more  complete  happiness, 
and  she  kept  repeating  to  herself  all  the  time  that  he 
was  simply  perfect. 

The  Marquis  got  on  very  well  with  his  American 
relatives.  He  thoroughly  appreciated  the  discretion 
and  the  excellent  character  of  Mrs.  Villars.     He  had 


AMERICAN  NOBILITY  233 

taken  to  call  her  "  Aunt  Mary,"  as  Clara  did,  and  this 
had  put  their  intercourse  on  a  very  friendly  footing. 
He  could  not  help  admiring  the  conscientiousness  with 
which  she  accomplished  this  third  pilgrimage  to  Rome, 
and  he  owned  to  himself  that  he  did  not  know  many 
Frenchwomen  of  her  age  capable  of  being  so  sincerely 
interested  in  the  masterpieces  of  art  and  in  historical 
associations. 

Jacques  found  a  way,  too,  of  getting  on  with  Clara. 
In  reality,  she  was  still  hostile,  but  she  was  rather 
awed  by  him,  and  did  not  dare  indulge  in  her  imper- 
tinences with  him.  He  delighted  in  teasing,  and  even 
exasperating  her,  and  then  he  would  calm  her  by  some 
charming  little  speech,  calling  her  his  "  beautiful 
cousin,"  or  he  would  hold  her  in  check  by  a  certain 
expression  that  he  would  put  on  which  always  took 
effect,  the  expression  on  the  face  of  the  Van  Dyck 
picture  at  Versailles. 

Jacques  liked  George  Ottis  and  even  rather  admired 
him.  It  made  him  indignant  to  see  the  poor  fellow 
subjected  to  Clara's  petty,  feminine  tyranny,  and  he 
said  to  himself  that  he  hoped  Annie  would  never  take 
it  into  her  head  to  try  treating  him  as  an  American. 

One  evening,  on  returning  home  from  her  mother's, 
his  wife  said  to  him,  in  a  very  natural  way: 

"  Jacques,  we  are  going  to  Frascati  to-morrow." 

This  way  of  arranging  for  him  gave  the  Marquis 
rather  a  shock. 

"Who  are  we?"  he  asked,  raising  his  eyebrows. 

"  The  Walters,  Mother,  Clara,  George,  and  you 
and  I." 

"  Before  arranging  for  me,  my  dear  girl,  you  should 
have  asked  me  whether  I  had  any  other  plan.  It  hap- 
pens that  I  had  decided  to  go  to  the  Villa  Madame. 


234  AMERICAN  NOBILITY 

It  appears  that  when  the  atmosphere  is  clear,  the  sea 
is  visible  from  there,  and  as  we  are  having  very  fine 
weather,  I  want  to  go  there.  You  are  quite  free  to 
go  to  Frascati,  though,  if  that  amuses  you." 

For  the  first  time,  Annie  felt  the  bit,  and  it  made 
her  rear. 

"Right,"  she  answered,  in  her  most  indei)endent 
tone,  "  I  shall  go." 

As  she  was  determined  to  give  her  husband  a  lesson, 
she  sat  down  deliberately  at  her  writing-table  and 
opened  her  Baedeker  to  read  all  she  could  about  Fras- 
cati. She  was  so  disturbed  in  her  mind,  though,  that 
she  could  not  fix  her  attention  on  what  she  was  read- 
ing. She  did  not  understand  a  word  and,  when  she 
attempted  to  write,  her  hand,  usually  so  steady,  trem- 
bled horribly.  She  was  furiously  angry,  but  her  strong 
will  came  to  her  aid  and  she  only  raged  silently  for 
a  few  minutes.  Her  compressed  lips  then  relaxed  and 
trembled  slightly,  as  though  the  tears  were  not  far 
away,  and  a  sad  look  came  over  her  pretty  face. 
Jacques,  under  the  cover  of  reading  the  Figaro,  was 
observing  her  and  he  now  felt  very  much  tempted  to 
say  a  tender  word  to  her,  but  he  resisted.  It  was 
his  theory  that  a  man  should  not  spoil  his  wife 
during  the  honeymoon  and  that,  from  the  very  first 
days  of  their  married  life,  he  should  accustom  her 
to  respect  his  authority.  He  felt  that  it  was  all 
the  more  necessary  to  act  thus  since  Annie  was 
American. 

In  a  very  nervous  state  of  mind,  she  finally  got  up, 
moved  about  the  room,  changed  the  place  of  a  chair 
and  of  several  knick-knacks,  and  arranged  the  cushions 
differently  on  the  sofa.  Whilst  doing  this,  she  glanced 
several  times   at  her  husband,   whose   proud-looking, 


AMERICAN  NOBILITY  235 

clearly-cut  profile  was  distinctly  outlined  against  the 
light. 

"  He  really  is  like  one  of  those  greyhounds,"  said 
Annie  to  herself  and,  strangely  enough,  the  curious 
comparison  made  her  see  her  mistake.  She  realised 
that  this  man  was  neither  a  Frank  Barnett  nor  a 
George  Ottis  and  she  said  to  herself  that  she  ought 
to  have  remembered  this.  She  wanted  to  obtain  for- 
giveness and,  gradually  approaching  his  chair,  she 
went  to  the  back  of  it  and  put  her  arm  gently  round 
his  neck. 

Jacques  immediately  threw  his  head  back  and  Annie 
stooped  and  kissed  him. 

"  I  would  rather  go  with  you  to  the  Villa  Madame," 
she  said  quietly. 

"  I  shall  be  delighted,  Annie,"  he  answered,  and 
then,  putting  his  arm  round  her,  he  drew  her  down 
on  to  his  knee. 

"  Jacques — "  she  said,  "  were  you  angry  that  I 
had  not  asked  you  whether  you  wanted  to  go  to 
Frascati?" 

"Angry?  No.  Just  at  first,  I  must  own  that  I 
thought  the  proceeding  a  trifle  calm,  but  I  ought  to 
have  understood  that  you  had  merely  forgotten  to 
ask  me." 

"  Well,  not  exactly  forgotten.  I  did  not  think  I 
had  to  ask  your  consent  for  anything  of  such  little 
importance,"  said  Annie,  with  her  admirable  candour. 
"  In  America,  women  constantly  accept  social  engage- 
ments for  their  husbands,  without  consulting  them." 

"  They  make  a  great  mistake,  and  all  the  more  so 
as  the  men  work  hard  in  your  country.  They  are 
certainly  entitled  to  reserve  a  few  hours  for  rest,  or 
at  any  rate  to  choose  their  amusements." 


236  AMERICAN  NOBILITY 

"Well,  they  put  their  dress-suits  on  without  any 
complaint  and  they  never  refuse  to  accompany  their 
wives." 

"  I  do  not  fancy  you  will  bring  me  to  that  degree 
of  perfection,"  said  Jacques,  smiling.  "  You  can  be 
quite  easy  in  your  mind,  though,  for  I  am  not  a  tyrant. 
You  will  always  be  perfectly  free  to  come  and  go  at 
your  own  pleasure  and  to  do  just  as  you  like.  I  have 
absolute  confidence  in  you.  You  have  too  much  good 
sense  not  to  conform  to  our  habits  and  customs  and 
even  to  our  etiquette  of  married  life.  I  am  quite 
sure  that,  before  very  long,  you  will  be  quite  a 
Frenchwoman." 

Annie  shook  her  head. 

"  Oh,  as  to  that,  you  must  not  expect  it.  I  am,  and 
I  always  shall  be,  American,"  she  added,  with  a  firm- 
ness to  which  the  Marquis  did  not  object.  "  I  will 
remember,  though,  that  I  have  a  French  husband." 

"  That  is  all  that  is  necessary,  my  darling.  I  only 
hope  you  may  never  regret  it." 

"  Oh,  you  would  have  to  be  very  bad  for  me  to  regret 
it  and  even  then —  Well,  I  should  always  have  the 
memory  of  these  few  perfect  weeks,  at  any  rate." 

Ashamed  of  having  said  as  much  as  that,  Annie 
disengaged  herself  from  her  husband's  arm  and  sprang 
to  her  feet. 

The  following  day,  after  luncheon,  Jacques  and  Annie 
started  for  the  Villa  Madame.  The  atmosphere  was 
wonderfully  clear.  At  the  extreme  limit  of  the  vast 
horizon,  they  could  distinguish,  not  the  sea  itself,  but 
the  reflection  of  the  sea  on  the  sky,  a  band  of  silvery, 
moving  light  which  showed  them  where  Ostia  lay.  It 
was  very  curious  and  very  beautiful.  Never,  perhaps, 
had  the  Marquis  been  as  gay  and  as  delightful  as  he 


AMERICAN  NOBILITY  237 

was  that  afternoon.     Annie's  heart  was  so  full  of  hap- 
piness and  contentment  that,  on  the  way  back  to  their 
carriage,  she  exclaimed: 
"  Oh,  Jacques,  I  am  so  happy ! " 


CHAPTER  III 

On  visiting  the  various  churches,  it  often  happened 
that  Jacques  would  exclaim :  "  Oh,  if  my  mother  could 
only  see  that ! " 

It  occurred  to  Annie,  one  day,  that  it  would  be  a 
good  idea  to  invite  her  mother-in-law.  Madame  d'An- 
guilhon  refused  at  first,  but  Annie  insisted  so  cordially 
that,  in  the  end,  she  accepted.  The  temptation  to  see 
Borne  with  her  son  was  not  to  be  resisted.  Annie's 
inspiration  was  a  good  one  for,  with  his  mother  there, 
Jacques  thought  less  about  Christiane. 

He  was  no  longer  a  believer,  but  his  soul  had  re- 
ceived the  impress  of  Catholicism,  an  impress  which 
can  never  be  obliterated.  Catholicism  is  a  ladder 
which  enables  man  to  soar  towards  the  ideal.  Many 
of  those  who  push  away  the  ladder,  after  using  it, 
would  never  have  reached  the  heights  on  which  they 
stand  without  its  aid.  The  Gothic  arches  of  an  old 
cathedral,  the  sight  of  the  altar,  and  the  sound  of  the 
bells  appealed  to  the  Marquis  in  a  way  which  his  wife 
could  not  have  understood,  for  she  knew  as  little  about 
Catholicism  as  she  did  about  Buddhism.  The  Mar- 
chioness saw,  with  some  alarm,  the  moral  gulf  which 
existed  between  the  husband  and  wife.  She  had  no 
idea  of  trying  to  convert  her  daughter-in-law,  but, 
hoping  to  bring  her  a  little  nearer  to  her  husband,  she 
endeavoured  to  lead  her  into  the  regions  of  idealism. 

238 


AMERICAN  NOBILITY  239 

When  visiting  the  churches  with  her,  she  explained  the 
meaning  of  the  Catholic  service  and  symbols,  told  her 
the  story  of  the  chief  saints  and  of  the  miracles  which 
were  the  subject  of  the  pictures  and  frescoes. 

Annie  listened  with  keen  interest,  but  remained  cold 
to  it  all. 

''  All  these  supernatural  things  give  a  sort  of  fabu- 
lousness to  Catholicism,"  she  said,  one  day.  "  It  seems 
to  me  like  a  sort  of  Christian  mythology." 

Jacques  could  not  help  smiling.  He  glanced  at  his 
mother  with  a  mischievous  expression  in  his  eyes.  The 
poor  Marchioness  was  horrified. 

"  Do  you  really  believe  in  these  miracles,  these 
legends?"  asked  Annie,  turning  to  her,  unconscious 
of  the  enormity  of  the  question  she  was  asking. 

"  My  dear  child,  I  believe  Catholicism  to  be  divine, 
consequently  nothing  in  it  seems  to  me  impossible." 

"  And  then,  too,  you  have  been  used  to  it  all  from 
your  childhood,"  continued  Annie.  "  When  one  hears 
all  this,  for  the  first  time,  at  my  age,  it  all  seems 
childish  and,  forgive  me  for  being  so  frank,  it  seems 
so  useless." 

"  Useless !  "  exclaimed  the  Marchioness.  "  But  it 
has  inspired  the  masterpieces  that  you  admire.  Thanks 
to  it  there  has  been  the  most  sublime  self-sacrifice. 
Think  of  the  Sisters  of  Charity,  for  instance.  It 
doubles  the  force  of  mankind,  and  if  it  only  served  to 
make  us  forget  this  sad  world  for  a  time,  it  would 
not  be  useless." 

"To  make  us  forget  this  world?  But  why  should 
we?  It  is  not  at  all  a  bad  sort  of  place.  I  am  quite 
contented  with  it.  I  assure  you  it  is  quite  good  enough 
for  me." 

The  Marchioness  could  not  help  laughing. 


240  AMERICAN  NOBILITY 

"  My  dear  child,  you  are  satisfied  with  it,  because 
you  are  happy,"  she  said.  "  Think  of  the  multitudes 
of  wretchedly  unhappy  people  in  it,  though.  Such 
people  need  to  look  heavenwards,  and  all  that  is  super- 
natural helps  them.  The  women  who  burn  candles 
for  the  sake  of  obtaining  some  favour,  those  who  fetch 
oil  from  the  Madonna's  lanip  with  which  to  anoint 
the  sick  person  they  are  tending,  take  back  hope  with 
them.    Do  you  not  think  that  hope  is  a  great  comfort?  " 

"  Yes,  but  I  think  it  would  be  better  to  cultivate 
moral  strength  and  to  teach  the  poor  creatures  to 
bear  their  misery  bravely." 

"  And  how  would  you  lessen  the  hatred  that  the 
poor  have  for  the  great  of  this  world  ?  " 

"  By  obliging  the  great  of  this  world  to  work  for 
the  happiness  of  the  poor  and  for  easing  their  life. 
And  then,  too,  by  showing  the  poor  that  the  rich  have 
sorrows  as  great  as  theirs  and  diseases  that  are  some- 
times much  worse.    All  that  is  quite  true." 

"  Bravo,  my  little  simplist ! "  put  in  the  Marquis. 

"  I  believe  that  the  burdens  are  adapted  to  the 
shoulders  that  are  to  bear  them,  and  that  the  good 
and  evil  are  better  meted  out  than  people  generally 
imagine.  Hundred  of  times  I  have  pitied  people  who 
were  quite  content  with  their  lot.  So  far,  I  have  been 
very  happy,  but  I  shall  have  my  share  of  sorrow.  I 
quite  expect  that." 

"What  do  you  think  of  the  evolution  of  woman 
after  that.  Mother?"  asked  Jacques. 

"  I  am  very  pleased  to  have  a  proof  of  it,"  answered 
Madame  d'Anguilhon,  smiling  affectionately  at  her 
daughter-in-law. 

The  Marchioness  was  always  somewhat  disconcerted 
by  the  directness  of  Annie's  reasoning.     \Mien  she 


AMERICAN  NOBILITY  241 

talked  religion  or  sentiment  with  her,  after  a  few 
minutes  she  usually  felt  as  though  she  had  suddenly 
come  upon  a  smooth,  impenetrable  wall,  and  it  gen- 
erally ended  in  her  changing  the  subject  of  the 
conversation. 

One  day,  Annie  saw  her  mother-in-law's  prayer-book 
on  the  table  and  asked  permission  to  look  at  the 
numerous  illustrations.  Madame  d'Anguilhon  could 
not  very  well  refuse,  but  it  was  with  great  reluctance 
that  she  saw  a  heretic's  fingers  irreverently  turning 
the  pages  of  a  book  which  contained  the  secrets  of 
her  very  soul. 

"How  funn}'!"  exclaimed  Annie,  every  now  and  then, 
on  seeing  the  pictures  of  various  saints  in  ecstatic 
attitudes. 

The  Marchioness  understood  the  meaning  of  the  word 
"  funny "  and  was  horrified.  St.  Francis  of  Assisi, 
with  his  poor  hands  pierced,  was  considered  funny, 
and  St.  Theresa,  with  her  face  lighted  up  by  divine 
love.  St.  Monica,  too,  holding  her  son's  hand  and 
looking  up  to  heaven. 

Presently,  Annie  came  to  a  beautifully-painted  little 
picture  of  Jesus  in  excruciating  pain,  with  his  breast 
torn  open,  showing  his  bleeding  heart. 

"  Oh,  but  it  is  awful  to  look  at  I  "  she  exclaimed. 

"  It  is  a  symbol,  my  child,"  replied  the  Marchioness, 
evidently  embarrassed. 

"  It  is  rather  coarse,  though,  I  think.  I  would 
rather  not  know  that  Jesus  had  a  heart  just  like 
ours." 

Coarse,  the  Sacred  Heart!  Marie  Alacoque's  vision 
coarse ! 

Jacques  was  immensely  amused  and  would  not  have 
missed  this  little  scene  upon  any  account. 

i9 


242  AMERICAN  NOBILITY 

To  the  great  annoyance  of  Madame  d'Anguilhon, 
Annie  then  began  to  read  the  prayer-book. 

"  How  curious  I  "  she  said  soon,  "  I  thought  I  knew 
French  fairly  well,  but  I  do  not  understand  half  of 
what  I  am  reading  here.  I  am  surprised  that  An- 
toinette de  Keradieu  should  have  had  the  courage  to 
adopt  a  religion  that  is  so  complex." 

"  But  Catholicism  is  making  great  progress  in  your 
country,  is  it  not?" 

"  Oh,  we  like  to  try  everything.  There  are  even 
people  who  are  freaks  enough  to  go  in  for  Buddhism. 
And  then,  you  may  be  very  sure,  that  Americans  will 
take  and  leave  what  they  want  of  Catholicism." 

Annie  continued  turning  over  the  pages  of  the 
prayer-book. 

"  All  these  things  would  spoil  this  world  for  me 
— and  the  next,"  she  remarked. 

Presently  she  began  to  read  a  few  lines  aloud : 

"  I  have,  at  last,  the  joy  of  possessing  Thee,  oh,  God 
of  love.  Why  am  I  not  all  heart.  Embrace  me,  oh, 
God,  burn  and  consume  my  heart  with  Thy  love " 

Annie  stopped  short. 

"  It  has  no  sense ! "  she  said.  "  How  dare  any  one 
speak  of  God  like  that!  Such  words  could  not  be 
sincere.  Who  wants  to  have  one's  heart  burnt  and 
consumed  with  love !  " 

The  word  Confession  excited  her  curiosity  and  she 
began  to  read  the  examination  of  the  conscience. 

"  Have  you  had  any  evil  thoughts?  " 

"  Were  they  voluntary  ones  ?  " 

"What  do  you  mean  by  evil  thoughts?"  she  asked, 
looking  up  at  her  mother-in-law,  with  her  limpid 
eyes. 

Jacques    coughed    and    the    Marchioness     flushed 


AMERICAN  NOBILITY  243 

slightly.  Just  as  she  was  about  to  reply,  the  car- 
riage was  announced.  Without  thinking  any  more  of 
the  question  she  had  just  asked,  Annie  closed  the  book 
and  went  quickly  away  to  put  on  her  hat. 

When  once  the  mother  and  son  were  alone,  they 
looked  at  each  other  and  smiled. 

"  I  would  not  change  my  little  heretic  for  a  pupil 
from  the  Sacred  Heart  Convent,"  said  Jacques. 

"  No,"  replied  his  mother,  slowly.  "  If  Annie  is  not 
capable  of  imagining  to  what  heights  mankind  can 
mount,  she  does  not,  at  least,  know  to  what  depths  it 
is  possible  to  descend," 

While  they  were  still  in  Rome,  Jacques  received  some 
news  which  jiut  the  finishing  touch  to  his  happiness. 
The  ChlLteau  of  Blonay  had  been  sold  by  his  father, 
twelve  years  previously.  It  was  as  though  Providence 
did  not  wish  the  old  nest  of  the  Anguilhon  family  to 
be  profaned,  for  the  manufacturer  who  had  bought 
it  had  died  without  having  inhabited  it.  He  left  no 
children  and  his  widow  rented  the  land,  but  kept  the 
chateau  for  one  of  her  nephews.  When  she  stayed  at 
Blonay,  she  took  up  her  abode  in  one  of  the  hunting- 
boxes  in  the  grounds.  As  soon  as  the  Marquis  was 
married,  Bontemps  made  inquiries  about  Madame 
Mottet's  business  affairs  and  was  informed  that  she 
had  lost  a  great  deal  of  money.  With  this  knowledge, 
Bontemps  went  to  work,  and  he  had  now  succeeded 
beyond  his  ho})es.  In  spite  of  the  increased  value  of 
the  land,  thanks  to  the  money  that  had  been  spent  on 
it,  the  present  owner  was  willing  to  sell  it  again  for 
the  price  her  husband  had  given  for  it,  four  millions, 
provided  the  money  were  paid  down  at  once.  Bon- 
temps telegraphed  to  the  Marquis  for  permission  to 
proceed  with  the  purchase.     On  reading  the  telegram, 


244  AMERICAN  NOBILITY 

Jacques  turned  pale  with  emotion  and,  unable  to  utter 
a  word,  he  handed  it  to  Annie. 

"  What  good  luck! "  she  exclaimed.  "  Answer  your 
lawyer  at  once  and  I  will  cable  to  New  York  for  the 
money  immediately." 

Jacques  seized  Annie  in  his  arms  and  kissed  her  in 
a  transport  of  joy  and  gratitude. 

"  How  happy  we  shall  be  at  our  beautiful  Blonay  I " 
he  said,  his  eyes  misty  with  his  emotion.  "  You  will 
love  it,  I  am  sure." 

After  a  three  weeks'  pilgrimage  through  the  churches 
of  the  Eternal  City,  Madame  d'Anguilhon  decided  to 
return  to  Paris  and  get  the  house  ready  for  the  young 
couple. 

Jacques  and  Annie  accompanied  her  as  far  as 
Florence  and,  on  the  way,  they  took  her  to  Perugia 
and  Assisi.  For  years  she  had  longed  to  see  the  places 
where  the  various  episodes  of  the  life  of  St.  Francis 
had  been  enacted. 

The  little  town,  full  of  shadow  and  silence,  impressed 
Annie  more  than  the  splendours  of  Rome. 

The  narrow  streets,  some  of  them  with  steps,  the 
low-roofed  old  houses,  and  the  curious  little  shops 
amused  her  immensely.  The  stationary  look  of  peo- 
ple and  things  struck  her  all  the  more  forcibly  from 
the  fact  that  her  brain  was  full  of  pictures  in  which 
life  was  at  its  utmost  degree  of  intensity.  She 
felt  as  though  she  had  been  transported  to  another 
age. 

"  How  interesting  it  all  is ! "  she  kept  saying. 

The  Marchioness  told  her  the  story  of  the  lives  of 
St.  Francis  and  of  St.  Claire. 

"  What  a  pity  they  could  not  marry,  as  they  were 
so  fond  of  each  other ! "  said  Annie. 


AMERICAN  NOBILITY  245 

"St.  Francis  and  St.  Claire  marry!"  exclaimed 
Jacques.    "  Oh,  horror ! " 

"  They  were  destined  for  a  higher  state,"  said  the 
Marchioness.  "  Our  little  love  affairs  are  very  petty 
and  trivial  compared  with  the  almost  divine  afifection 
which  united  them.  You  may  be  sure  that  the  joy 
they  experienced  was  very  much  deeper  than  ours." 

"Do  you  think  so?"  asked  Annie,  with  an  expres- 
sion of  doubt  in  her  tone. 

"  Well,  my  dear  child,  you  have  an  instance  here 
of  that  force  of  soul  which  produces  the  marvellous, 
and  which  is  only  to  be  met  with  in  Catholicism. 
Thanks  to  that  alone,  St.  Francis  and  St.  Claire  have 
influenced  the  whole  world,  built  thousands  of  monas- 
teries, and  wafted  a  breath  of  charity  and  poetry 
through  the  Middle  Ages.  That  force  has  preserved 
Assisi  from  oblivion  and  destruction  far  more  effec- 
tually than  either  glory  or  money  could  have  done. 
Y'ou  see  that,  after  five  centuries,  it  still  has  power  to 
attract  and  touch  the  hearts  of  thousands  of  pilgrims." 

"  It  really  is  very  curious,"  owned  Annie.  "  Ah, 
there  will  never  be  any  saints  in  America,"  she  added, 
in  a  droll  way. 

"Who  knows?" 

"  Oh,  no,  I  cannot  imagine  an  American  sacrificing 
his  wealth,  preaching  poverty,  and  talking  to  birds. 
Instead  of  St.  Francis,  we  may,  perhaps,  have  men 
who  will  find  a  way  of  lessening  misery  and  of  making 
the  world  more  comfortable." 

"  Well,  I  doubt  whether  they  will  ever  do  as  much 
for  humanity  as  these  two  humble  ones  of  Assisi.  I 
am  sure  they  will  never  inspire  anything  as  beautiful 
as  those  two  churches,  one  above  the  other,  and  Giotto's 
mvstic  frescoes." 


246  AMERICAN  NOBILITY 

Just  as  the  Marchioness  had  said  these  words,  her 
son  uttered  a  cry  of  admiration.  They  had  been  intro- 
duced into  the  cloister  of  the  convent,  and  this  cloister, 
with  its  Gothic  arches  and  its  marvellous  perspective, 
overlooking  the  entire  Umbrian  Valley,  is  one  of  the 
beautiful  things  of  this  world. 

"  Ah,  the  monks  were  great  artists,"  said  Jacques. 
"  How  well  they  understood  choosing  their  places  of 
retreat!  What  meditations  they  must  have  had  here, 
.in  the  silence  of  night  under  a  starry  heaven! " 

"  Look  what  a  pretty  picture ! "  exclaimed  Annie, 
standing  still  in  admiration. 

In  the  background  of  the  deserted  cloister,  an  old 
monk,  in  his  brown  robe  and  with  his  hood  thrown 
back,  was  walking  up  and  down,  with  a  tired  step, 
reading  his  prayers.  In  a  cage,  fastened  on  to  one  of 
the  columns,  a  bird  was  singing  at  the  top  of  its  voice 
and  on  the  wall,  underneath,  two  beautiful  gillyflower 
plants  were  blossoming  in  chipped  vases.  Jacques 
caught  Annie's  arm  and  they  both  stood  still  for  a 
moment. 

"  Do  you  know,"  he  said,  "  that  this  little  picture 
represents  more  human  effort  than  your  Brooklyn 
Bridge?  It  required  a  St.  Francis  for  creating  that 
monk,  an  evolution  and  a  revolution  for  emptying  this 
cloister  and  for  bringing  a  bird  and  flowers  here.  It 
has  required  centuries,  too,  for  giving  the  right  tone 
to  these  stones." 

Annie  looked  at  her  husband  in  admiration. 

"  That  is  quite  true,"  she  said,  "  I  should  never  have 
thought  of  all  that.  I  must  really  begin  to  reflect," 
she  added,  in  a  serious  tone  that  was  very  droll. 

Towards  the  end  of  their  stay  in  Rome,  Jacques 
noticed  a  change  in  his  wife.     She  seemed  less  gay 


AMERICAN  NOBILITY  247 

and  less  ready  for  everything.  She  often  had  fits  of 
bad  temper.  Catherine  was  the  only  victim,  but  still 
all  this  indicated  some  moral  disturbance  and  Jacques 
began  to  wonder  anxiously  whether  her  real  character 
were  now  beginning  to  manifest  itself. 

At  Florence,  the  evening  before  the  departure  of  the 
Marchioness  for  Paris,  the  young  couple  were  alone 
after  dinner.  Annie  was  seated  near  the  fireplace. 
She  looked  anxious  about  something  and  was  moving 
her  foot  about  in  a  rather  irritable  way.  Jacques 
was  strolling  up  and  down  the  immense  drawing- 
room  of  the  Florentine  hotel.  He  was  struck  by  the 
troubled  look  on  Annie's  face  and,  sitting  down  be- 
side her,  he  laid  his  hand  on  the  arm  of  her  chair  and 
said,  in  an  affectionate,  but  somewhat  authoritative 
tone: 

"  What  is  the  matter,  toy  darling?" 

"  The  matter,"  said  Annie,  "  why  we  cannot  go  to 
America  and  I  shall  not  be  at  Clara's  wedding.  1 
shall  have  to  give  up  all  sorts  of  beautiful  plans.  That 
is  what  is  the  matter,"  she  added,  with  quivering  lips 
and  wet  eyes. 

"But  why?" 

"Why?  Oh,  Jacques,  I  believe — I  believe  I  am 
going  to  have  a  baby,"  she  said  with  a  pitiful  accent. 

''  Really  I "  exclaimed  the  Marquis,  springing  to  his 
feet.  "  Is  it  really  true?"  he  asked,  pale  and  excited, 
his  whole  face  lighting  up  with  joy  and  triumph. 

"  It  is  only  too  true." 

"Too  true?  Do  you  mean  to  say  that  you  are  not 
delighted?" 

"  Frankly,  no,  I  am  not." 

The  expression  of  Jacques'  face  became  suddenly 
so  cold  that  Annie  hastened  to  add: 


248  AMERICAN  NOBILITY 

"  I  should  like  to  have  children,  but  in  two  or  three 
years'  time,  not  now." 

"  Nature  would  have  to  allow  for  all  your  little 
arrangements  and  that  is  rather  a  great  deal  to 
ask,"  said  Jacques,  with  a  shade  of  severity  in  his 
voice. 

"  I  hope  though,"  he  continued  more  gently,  "  that 
you  love  me  enough  not  to  regret  an  event,  the  very 
idea  of  which  fills  me  with  joy." 

"  Oh,  Jacques,  that  is  the  only  thing  that  can  make 
up  to  me  for  all  my  disappointment." 

The  Marquis  knelt  down  in  front  of  his  wife  and 
took  her  two  hands  in  his. 

"  How  ever  could  you  keep  this  secret  so  long  to 
yourself?"  he  asked,  reproachfully. 

This  was  the  first  time  Annie  had  ever  seen  her 
husband  on  his  knees  before -her. 

"  I  did  not  want  to  spoil  the  rest  of  your  time  here," 
she  answered,  in  a  tremulous  voice,  "  and  so  had 
decided  not  to  tell  you  till  we  were  back  in  Paris." 

"  Not  to  spoil  ray  time  here,  but  how  could  it?  " 

"  Because  it  is  so  horrible." 

"So  horrible?" 

Jacques  could  not  help  repeating  the  words,  which 
amazed  him  so  much. 

"  Yes,  in  America  we  do  not  think  women  in  this 
condition  at  all  interesting.  We  are  rather  ashamed 
of  them,  and  many  men  do  not  care  about  seeing 
friends  of  the  family  at  their  house  when  they  are  in 
this  state." 

"Well,  thank  Heaven  that  we,  of  Latin  race,  have 
enough  imagination  to  be  able  to  see  the  poetical  side 
of  certain  realities.  We  think  a  woman  in  this  stage 
of  maternity  infinitely  touching.    We  like  the  dreami- 


AMERICAN  NOBILITY  249 

noas  of  her  expression,  the  slowness  of  her  movements, 
and  the  change  in  her  figure." 

'*  You  really  think  me  interesting  like  this?" 

"  Interesting  and  adorable." 

Annie  gave  a  little  nervous  laugh. 

"This  reminds  me  of  an  engraving  I  once  saw  in 
a  shop  window  in  the  Rue  de  Rivoli.  A  young  woman 
was  seated  with  some  of  the  little  garments  of  the 
layette  on  her  lap.  Standing  up  in  front  of  her  was 
an  officer,  with  a  moustache  rather  like  yours,  and 
he  was  holding  a  tiny  baby's  hood  on  his  fist.  I  was 
horrified  to  see  a  little  scene  like  that  reproduced  for 
the  public.  Clara  made  fun  of  it,  and  just  said  that 
an  American  would  never  make  himself  so  ridiculous." 

"  Well,  there  you  have  just  the  difference  of  the 
Latin  character.  I  know  that  picture  and  I  have  never 
looked  at  it  without  feeling  a  certain  emotion.  And 
I  shall  do  like  the  officer.  I  shall  put  them  on  my 
fist,  these  little  hoods  and  I  shall  kiss  them,  even 
when  Clara  is  there." 

"  Oh,  no,  you  must  never  do  that,"  exclaimed  Annie. 

"  I  certainly  shall,  and  how  I  shall  dream  about 
this  son  of  ours — for  it  will  be  a  son " 

Annie,  blushing,  annoyed,  and  deeply  moved  at  the 
same  time,  put  her  hand  on  her  husband's  mouth. 

"  Oh,  do  please  be  quiet,"  she  said. 

The  Marquis  rose  and,  sitting  down  beside  Annie, 
put  his  arm  round  her  shoulder. 

"  Does  your  mother  know?"  he  asked. 

"Before  you?  Oh,  no,  I  have  not  said  a  word  to 
any  one.  Catherine  has  guessed  and  she  is  wild  with 
joy.  She  prays  for  me  night  and  morning.  She  has 
candles  burnt  and  she  laughs  and  cries  by  turns.  It 
is  a  regular  comedy.     She  beseeched  me  not  to  let  you 


250  AMERICAN  NOBILITY 

see  how  vexed  I  am,  for  she  assures  me  that  you 
would  think  badly  of  me,  but  I  cannot  act  and  then, 
too,  it  is  a  great  disappointment  not  to  go  to  Clara's 
wedding." 

"  I  will  do  my  utmost  to  make  it  up  to  you  in  some 
way,"  said  Jacques.  "  Now,"  he  continued,  "  let  us  go 
and  announce  the  good  news  to  my  mother." 

He  held  both  his  hands  out  to  his  young  wife  and 
when  she  was  standing  up  before  him,  he  kept  her 
there  for  a  few  seconds,  gazing  at  her  with  such  a 
tender,  eloquent  expression  in  his  eyes,  that  Annie, 
blushing  and  confused,  tried  to  release  herself. 

"  Let  us  go  and  find  your  mother,"  she  said. 

The  Marchioness  was  busy,  putting  the  various 
objects  she  needed  in  her  travelling  case. 

"  Here  I  am,  my  dear  children,"  she  said,  gaily. 
"  How  queer  you  both  look,  though,"  she  added. 
"Have  you  been  having  a  lovers'  quarrel?" 

"  No,  we  are  not  lovers  who  quarrel,"  answered 
Jacques.  "  We  have  a  surprise  for  you,  though,  so 
prepare  for  a  great  joy." 

"  I  have  had  so  many  lately,  that  I  am  beginning 
to  get  used  to  them." 

"  Well,  then,  listen.  I  will  whisper  it  to  you,  as 
they  would  in  America,  for  it  is  horribly  shocking,  is 
it  not,  Annie?" 

"  Yes,  certainly,"  she  replied. 

The  Marquis  put  his  arm  round  his  mother's  neck, 
his  lips  to  her  ear  and  whispered  a  few  words  to  her. 
The  book  Madame  d'Anguilhon  was  holding  fell  to 
the  ground,  and  her  face  showed  the  emotion  she  felt. 
She  pushed  her  son  aside  and,  going  with  out- 
stretched hands  to  Annie,  kissed  her  without  uttering 
a  word. 


AMERICAN  NOBILITY  251 

"  Oh,  my  child,  what  happiness !  "  she  managed  to 
say  at  last  "It  is  really  true  then?  I  guessed  as 
much,  on  seeing  you  again,  but,  as  I  heard  nothing, 
I  concluded  that  I  was  mistaken." 

"You  guessed?"  exclaimed  Annie,  extremely  sur- 
prised.    "How?" 

"By  a  certain  expression  that  gave  you  an  in- 
teresting look." 

"There,  what  did  I  tell  you  just  now?"  exclaimed 
Jacques,  triumphantly. 

"  I  really  must  know  what  you  call  an  interesting 
look,"  said  Annie,  going  to  the  glass  and  examining 
herself  very  carefully. 

"  I  cannot  see  anything  extraordinary,"  she  con- 
tinued. "  My  face  looks  drawn,  and  my  eyes  have 
dark  rings  round  them.  It  is  not  beautifying,  by  any 
means,"  she  added,  with  a  shade  of  vexation  in  her 
tone. 

"  Would  you  believe,  mother,  that  your  daughter- 
in-law  is  sorry  to  think  she  is  going  to  have  a  baby, 
as  she  would  have  preferred  going  to  America,"  said 
Jacques,  in  a  half-vexed,  half-joking  manner. 

"  I  think  that  it  is  very  natural,"  replied  the  Mar- 
chioness. "  It  is  rather  hard  for  a  young  wife  to 
have  all  the  cares  of  maternity  thrust  upon  her  all  at 
once." 

"Ah,  I  am  glad  to  hear  you  say  that,"  cried  Annie, 
gratefully. 

"  Yes,  I  can  understand  that  you  must  have  some 
diflBculty  in  resigning  yourself  to  all  the  sacrifices  that 
your  state  demands.  In  a  few  weeks'  time,  though,  a 
feeling  so  strong  and  so  sweet  will  come  into  your 
heart  that  you  will  not  regret  anything  more.  I  ought 
to  know,"  added  the  Marchioness,  with  a  tremulous 


252  AMERICAN  NOBILITY 

smile,  looking  at  her  son  with  an  expression  of  infinite 
tenderness  in  her  eyes.  "  You  did  well  to  tell  me  the 
good  news  at  once,"  she  continued,  "  I  shall  hurry  up 
the  workmen,  so  that  your  house  will  be  ready  as  soon 
as  possible." 

"  If  Annie  feels  tired,  we  can  go  back  to  Paris  at 
once,  and  stay  at  the  H6tel  Castiglione." 

"  Tired !  "  exclaimed  his  wife.  "  I  never  felt  better 
in  my  life.  I  want  to  do  everything  we  had  planned 
to  do  and  I  must  see  Venice,  Milan,  and  Turin." 

"  Quite  right,  my  child.  Do  everything  your  health 
allows  you,  but  be  prudent  and  do  not  overtire  your- 
self. Your  mother  will  be  with  you  and  she  will  look 
after  you.     I  am  very  glad  she  is  coming." 

When  once  they  were  back  in  their  own  rooms, 
Annie  said  to  her  husband,  in  a  convinced  tone: 

"  Jacques,  your  mother  is  much  better,  much  more 
indulgent  than  you  are." 

"  I  am  quite  of  your  opinion,  darling,"  replied  the 
Marquis. 

Mrs.  Villars,  Clara,  and  George  Ottis,  who  had  gone 
to  Naples,  joined  Annie  and  Jacques  at  Venice.  Mrs. 
Villars  was  by  no  means  delighted  at  the  news  her 
daughter  had  for  her.  She  had  been  counting  on 
Jacques'  visit  to  America  for  allaying  the  distrust 
of  her  sisters-in-law  and  of  other  members  of  their 
family.  His  visit  was  now,  of  course,  indefinitely  post- 
poned and  this  was  vexing.  As  to  Clara,  she  did  not 
spare  her  cousin. 

"  I  said  it  would  be  like  this,"  she  kept  repeating 
and  she  did  not  try  at  all  to  make  Annie  feel  her 
disappointment  less  keenly. 


CHAPTER  IV 

Ever  since  her  return  from  Italy,  Madame  d'An- 
guilhon  had  been  busy  getting  her  children's  home 
ready  for  them.  Whilst  the  repairs  were  being  done 
to  the  house  itself,  she  had  organised  the  household. 
The  servants  she  engaged  were  from  Blonay.  They 
were  sons  and  daughters  of  old  servants  of  the 
family,  and  everything  was  now  in  excellent  working 
order. 

On  arriving,  Jacques  and  Annie  found  the  house 
warm  and  comfortable.  There  were  flowers  and 
plants  everywhere,  the  servants  at  their  respective 
posts,  and  all  traces  of  the  long  absence  of  the  An- 
guilhon  family  had  disappeared.  In  spite  of  the  early 
hour,  the  Marchioness  was  there  to  receive  and  welcome 
them. 

Directly  after  breakfast,  Annie  wanted  to  see  her 
new  abode. 

"  It  is  so  amusing,"  she  said,  "  to  come  into  a  home 
like  this  without  ever  having  seen  it." 

The  house  dated  from  the  end  of  the  seventeenth 
century.  It  was  built  between  a  large  courtyard  and 
a  garden  that  extended  to  the  Rue  de  Babylone.  Its 
cold,  gloomy  look  struck  one  more  than  the  beauty 
of  its  architecture  and  its  proportions.  On  the 
ground-floor,  it  had  a  beautiful  suite  of  drawing- 
rooms,    with    dining-rooms,    a    billiard-room,    and    a 

253 


254  AMERICAN  NOBILITY 

library.  On  the  first  floor,  which  reached  by  a  fine 
staircase,  were  the  ball-room  and  the  private  dwelling- 
rooms. 

The  interior  of  the  old  house  seemed  terribly  severe 
in  style  to  Annie's  American  eyes.  The  drawing-rooms 
had  very  high  ceilings,  the  walls  were  hung  with  old 
brocade,  and  the  furniture  was  very  sober-looking. 
There  was  not  a  single  knick-knack  or  gewgaw  to 
spoil  the  royal  simplicity  of  everything,  and  the  ab- 
sence of  such  things  seemed  to  freeze  Annie.  She  felt 
that  this  setting  was  too  heavy  and  too  big  for  her. 
She  kept  repeating: 

"  It  is  very  beautiful,  it  is  all  very  beautiful ! "  but 
there  was  no  enthusiasm  in  her  voice,  and  her  face 
grew  longer  and  longer.  The  last  drawing-room,  how- 
ever, led  into  a  conservatory,  and  the  large  windows 
opened  on  to  one  of  the  prettiest  corners  of  the  garden. 
Annie  was  delighted  with  this  room.  It  was  light  and 
cheerful-looking,  with  panels  hung  with  embroidered 
silk.  There  was  a  more  homelike  feeling  about  it  and 
it  seemed  as  though  she  could  breathe  more  freely 
here.  There  were  roses,  too,  in  this  room  from  the 
Duchess  de  Blanzac  and  flowers  from  the  Keradieus, 
the  Prince  de  Nolles,  the  Viscount  de  Nozay,  and  the 
Count  de  Challans.  These  proofs  of  friendship  served 
to  efface  her  first  impressions.  Her  husband's  rooms, 
which  she  visited  next,  seemed  magnificent,  but  too 
severe.  When  she  came  to  her  own  suite  of  rooms, 
though,  she  forgot  all  the  rest  of  the  house.  It  was 
all  arranged  in  the  purest  Louis  XV.  style.  The  bro- 
caded silk  hangings,  the  bedstead  painted  white  and 
decorated  with  Cupids  and  tufts  of  feathers,  the  furni- 
ture with  curved  outlines,  the  duchess  arm-chairs,  and 
little  sofas  and  the  screens,  all  constituted  an  ensemble 


AMERICAN  NOBILITY  255 

of  the  most  perfect  good  taste,  which  simply  charmed 
Annie. 

Suddenly  she  coloured  and  looked  at  her  mother-in- 
law  in  an  embarrassed  way. 

"  These  were  your  rooms,  though,"  she  said,  "  you 
ought  to  stay  here." 

"  My  dear  child,"  said  the  Marchioness,  smiling, 
"  when  I  was  obliged  to  leave  this  house,  six  years 
ago,  it  was  a  great  grief  to  me.  It  seemed  as  though 
I  could  never  breathe  freely  or  even  live  in  my  flat  in 
the  Rue  de  Bellechasse.  In  a  very  short  time,  though, 
I  had  grown  accustomed  to  it  and  I  now  understand 
the  words  of  Horace :  '  The  smaller  the  house,  the 
greater  the  peace.'  This  peace  has  now  become  pre- 
cious to  me.  It  leaves  me  time  for  charitable  work 
and  for  reading  and  thought.  If  I  were  rich  again, 
I  should  not  change  my  way  of  living.  I  must  confess 
that  I  should  not  like  a  daughter-in-law  whom  I  could 
not  have  loved  to  have  these  rooms,  but  it  is  a  real 
pleasure  to  me  to  see  you  in  them." 

"  Oh,  how  good  you  are,"  exclaimed  Annie,  deeply 
touched.  "  I  want  to  ask  you  something,"  she  added, 
after  a  slight  hesitation. 

"What  is  it?" 

"  I  know  nothing  of  your  ways  and  customs  here, 
and  absolutely  nothing  about  French  housekeeping.  I 
am  afraid  of  making  blunders  and  I  do  not  want 
Jacques  to  think  me  more  stupid  than  I  am.  Would 
you  help  me  a  little  and  show  me  how  to  go  about 
it  all?" 

"  Very  willingly." 

Annie's  face  brightened  at  once. 

"  Well,  then,  I  shall  consult  you  whenever  I  am  in 
a  fix.     Are  you  quite  sure  it  will  not  bore  you?" 


256  AMERICAN  NOBILITY 

"  Quite  sure.  Make  use  of  me  as  you  would  of  an 
old  friend.  And  now,  my  child,  I  will  leave  you  to 
dress.  I  am  going  back  home,  but  I  will  come  to 
luncheon  and  introduce  your  servants  to  you.  I  have 
chosen  them  very  carefully  and  they  know  their  work, 
so  that  everything  will  go  along  like  clockwork." 

Annie  kissed  her  mother-in-law  without  waiting  to 
be  kissed  by  her.  It  was  the  first  time  she  had  done 
this. 

"  I  am  so  glad  to  have  you,"  she  said,  prettily. 

When  Jacques  was  alone  in  his  father's  rooms,  which 
from  henceforth  were  to  be  his,  the  emotion  he  felt 
made  him  realise  keenly  the  deep  meaning  of  life.  He 
sank  down  on  an  arm-chair  and,  for  some  time,  simply 
looked  around.  He  then  rose  and  went  and  handled 
the  tapestry,  the  bronze  ornaments,  the  weapons,  and 
all  the  other  objects  which  he  had  so  nearly  lost  for 
ever. 

Presently,  his  mother  appeared  in  the  doorway.  He 
went  tow^ards  her  and,  taking  her  hands  in  his,  kissed 
them. 

"  How  you  must  have  suffered  in  reviving  old 
memories  like  this,"  he  said.  "  I  ought  not  to  have 
allowed  you  to  get  things  ready  for  us." 

"  You  would  have  deprived  me  of  a  great  joy.  At 
present,  I  am  above  and  beyond  certain  regrets." 

"  What  a  strange  thing  life  is,"  said  Jacques.  "  We 
were  obliged  to  leave  this  house  and  now  we  are 
brought  back  again  to  it.  What  is  the  use  of  all 
these  vicissitudes  ?  " 

"They  are,  perhaps,  for  helping  us  in  our  evolution, 
as  Annie  would  say.  The  six  years  which  have  just 
gone  by  have  not  been  lost  on  you.  You  have  gained 
experience,  and  I  hope  you  have  acquired  wisdom,  too." 


AMERICAN  NOBILITY  257 

"Yes,  I  have." 

"  Well,  then,  do  not  seek  other  reasons.  May  God 
guide  you  now  and  preserve  you  from  yourself." 

"  Oh,  I  am  so  happy  that  I  should  be  capable  of 
promising  you  to  sin  no  more." 

"  I  do  not  ask  as  much  as  that,"  said  the  Mar- 
chioness, smiling.  "  Remember,  though,  that  happi- 
ness lays  as  many  obligations  on  us  as  noblesse 
does." 

"  I  will  remember,"  answered  Jacques,  gravely. 


CHAPTER  V 

"I  SHALL  forget,"  Christiane  had  said,  but — she 
could  not  forget.  When  once  she  was  back  at  Blanzac, 
she  used  all  the  means  which  her  large  fortune  put 
at  her  disposal  for  diverting  her  mind.  She  managed 
to  appear  gay  and  careless  all  day  long,  but  when  she 
was  alone  again  Jacques  took  possession  of  her  once 
more,  body  and  soul.  Their  conversations  came  back 
to  her  mind  with  extraordinary  vividness.  She  re- 
called certain  Intonations  of  his  voice  and  the  silences 
that  had  often  fallen  between  thera.  She  could  feel 
again,  in  the  most  curious  way,  the  impression  of  his 
kisses  on  her  hands.  She  felt  the  soft,  full  lips,  the 
silky  moustache,  and  a  thrill  passed  through  her.  .  .  . 
He  had  been  so  very  nearly  in  love  with  her.  She 
wondered  whether  he  would  have  given  up  the  idea  of 
Annie's  wealth  for  her  sake,  and  whether  she  would 
have  given  up  her  husband's  wealth  for  him.  Yes, 
both  of  them  would  have  been  capable  of  such  folly 
and  both  of  them  would  probably  have  regretted  it 
afterwards.  This  conviction  consoled  her  more  than 
anything  else.  The  Duchess's  vivid  imagination  became 
an  instrument  of  torture  to  her.  She  saw,  only  too 
distinctly,  the  newly-married  couple  together,  she  saw 
them  caressing  each  other,  confiding  in  each  other. 
She  saw  them  walking  slowly,  arm-in-arm,  in  the 
beautiful  park  of  the  Ch&teau  de  St.  Michel,  which 

258 


AMERICAN  NOBILITY  259 

she  knew  so  well.  Maddened  by  these  visions,  she  felt 
tempted,  at  times,  to  rush  away  to  Cannes  and,  from 
some  hiding-place,  have  a  glimpse  of  the  husband  and 
wife,  in  order  to  learn  what  was  their  state  of  mind. 

Christiane  returned  to  Paris  earlier  than  usual. 
She  wanted  to  be  near  Dr.  Moreau,  as  it  seemed  to 
her  that  he  alone  might  be  able  to  help  her  to  chase 
from  her  heart  this  ridiculous  and  painful  love. 

During  his  stay  at  Petit-Port,  the  doctor  had  wit- 
nessed the  Duchess's  intimacy  with  Jacques  d'An- 
guilhon.  He  had  guessed  that  she  was  in  great 
danger  and  would  have  been  glad  to  convey  her  away 
to  the  other  end  of  the  world.  When  he  saw  her 
now,  he  knew  that  his  fears  had  been  realised. 

"  She  is  lost,"  he  said  to  himself.  "  Love  at  thirty 
is  incurable." 

Like  all  fresh  remedies,  the  change  of  scene  did 
Christiane  good  at  first.  But  when  the  time  drew 
near  for  Jacques'  return,  she  became  more  and  more 
agitated.  The  Anguilhons'  house  was  next  hers  and 
for  years  she  had  passed  it  like  any  other  house,  but, 
at  present,  the  gateway,  the  courtyard,  planted  with 
trees,  the  lions  on  the  stone  steps,  all  these  things  of 
stone  and  wood  affected  her  strangely.  Several  times 
she  went  in,  to  see  how  the  repairs  were  getting  on. 
One  day,  she  even  went  up  to  the  first  floor  and,  urged 
on  by  a  sentiment  that  rendered  her  will  powerless, 
she  stole  into  Jacques'  rooms  and  examined  them  with 
an  emotion  that  was  both  painful  and  delicious.  On 
seeing  that  they  were  separated  by  a  corridor  from 
Annie's  rooms,  she  experienced  a  joy  that  made  her 
blush  for  herself. 

The  day  when  the  Marquis  and  Marchioness  d'An- 
guilhon  were  expected  back,  Christiane,  who  had  been 


260  AMERICAN  NOBILITY 

awake  a  long  time  before  daylight,  found  herself  listen- 
ing intently  for  the  slightest  noise  that  should  an- 
nounce their  arrival.  As  soon  as  she  knew  they  were 
there,  only  a  few  steps  away  from  her,  she  longed  to 
see  the  young  wife,  to  question  her,  to  find  out — 
what?  She  did  not  know  herself  what  she  wanted 
to  find  out,  but  it  seemed  to  her  that  she  should  feel 
tranquil  after  seeing  Annie.  She  went  out  shopping 
to  the  Bon  March6,  but  she  was  only  there  a  few 
minutes.  She  then  set  off  walking  at  random  and, 
after  going  a  very  long  way  round,  she  arrived  at 
the  door  of  the  Anguilhons'  house,  just  as  the  clock 
was  striking  eleven.  She  stopped,  under  the  pretext 
of  asking  after  them,  and,  on  hearing  that  the  Marquis 
had  just  gone  out,  she  went  in  to  see  his  wife.  She 
had  hoped  that  Jacques  would  not  be  at  home. 

Annie  was  delighted  at  the  idea  of  seeing  the 
Duchess  again  and  came  downstairs  at  once.  On 
seeing  her  advance,  through  the  long  suite  of  re- 
ception-rooms, the  Duchess  guessed  that  she  was  in 
an  interesting  condition.  It  gave  her  a  violent 
shock  and  it  was  with  quivering  lips  that  she  kissed 
her, 

"  I  was  passing,"  she  said,  "  and  could  not  resist 
the  temptation  of  coming  in  to  welcome  you  home." 

"  I  am  so  glad  to  see  you  again,"  said  Annie,  in  a 
sincere  tone  of  voice.  "  Your  beautiful  roses  gave  me 
the  greatest  pleasure  and  I  always  fancy  that  flowers 
bring  good  luck." 

"  I  think  you  are  looking  still  prettier,"  said 
Madame  de  Blanzac  after  scanning  Annie's  face 
eagerly. 

"  Do  you  really  think  so  ?    Oh,  so  much  the  better." 

"  Well,  did  I  praise  French  husbands  too  much  ?  " 


AMERICAN  NOBILITY  261 

asked  the  Duchess,  with  a  smile  that  ill  concealed  her 
emotion. 

"  No,  Jacques  is  perfect,  but  I  expect  there  are  not 
many  men  like  him." 

"  Oh,  yes,  there  are,"  answered  Christiane,  and  then, 
urged  on  by  a  strange  curiosity,  she  began  to  ply 
Annie  with  questions,  trying  to  lead  up  to  certain 
confidences.  Annie  did  not  understand  and  she  simply 
told  about  their  travels  without  the  slightest  em- 
barrassment, and  without  any  emotion  at  all.  Her 
husband's  name  was  constantly  on  her  lips  and  it 
was  easy  to  see  that  he  was  the  axis  round  which 
her  own  life  turned.  By  means  of  all  she  told,  and 
without  having  any  idea  of  it  herself,  Annie  opened 
the  sanctuary  door  of  her  married  life  wide  enough 
for  her  visitor  to  see  all  at  a  glance.  Christiane 
understood  that  Jacques  was  a  tender  husband,  but 
he  was  not  a  lover.  She  had  come  in  search  of  this 
conviction  and  it  made  her  so  happy  that  she  felt 
strangely  grateful  to  Annie  and,  on  leaving  her,  she 
kissed  her  with  an  outburst  of  sincere  friendship. 

"  I  am  delighted  to  have  you  for  a  neighbour,"  she 
said,  on  going  away.  "  You  will  be  welcome  at  any 
time.  If  you  need  any  advice  on  any  matter,  put  on 
your  hat  and  come  to  me  at  once.  That  is  a  bargain, 
is  it  not?" 

Christiane  knew  that  Jacques  would  not  fail  to  call 
on  her  that  day.  Towards  two  o'clock,  when  she  heard 
his  footsteps,  she  felt  weak  with  emotion.  When  he 
entered  the  room,  his  joyful,  triumphant  air  con- 
trasted so  thoroughly  with  her  own  feelings,  that  she 
at  once  regained  her  composure.  She  held  out  her 
hand  to  him,  as  she  would  have  done  to  an  ordinary 
visitor. 


262  AMERICAN  NOBILITY 

"  And  so  you  are  back  from  the  perilous  journey?  " 
she  said  gaily. 

"Perilous  journey!"  repeiated  Jacques,  laughing. 
"  Is  that  what  you  call  the  wedding-trip?  " 

"  Is  it  not  a  good  name  for  it?  People  often  come 
back  from  it  minus  their  illusions.  Sometimes  they 
come  back  with  a  broken  heart.  That  is  not  your 
case  certainly,  for  you  look  like  a  happy  man." 

"  And  I  am  a  happy  man,"  answered  Jacques. 

As  he  uttered  these  words,  he  bent  his  knee  before 
the  Duchess. 

"  What  are  you  doing?"  she  asked,  frowning. 

"  Returning  thanks,"  he  answered,  half  seriously  and 
half  in  a  joke.  "  This  time  last  year  I  was  desper- 
ate. I  had  run  out  of  my  money  and  had  nothing 
left  but  to  go  and  end  my  life  decently  in  Africa. 
At  present,  everything  is  open  to  me.  I  have  the  best 
things  this  world  has  to  give  and  I  owe  everything  to 
you." 

A  spasm  of  pain  contracted  the  Duchess's  face. 

"  You  owe  everything  to  me !  You  are  much  too 
modest.  You  won  your  wife's  heart  by  your  good 
looks.  And  then,  do  you  not  think  that  your  marriage 
was  foreordained?  Even  if  I  did  help,  I  was  obliged 
to  do  so.  Yes,  I  had  no  choice,"  she  added,  with  a 
sort  of  anger. 

"  Whether  you  were  obliged  or  not,  it  is  very  sweet 
to  me  to  think  that  I  owe  my  happiness  to  you." 

"  But  I  do  not  care  to  have  you  give  me  credit  for 
what  is  not  due  to  me." 

These  words  were  uttered  in  so  haughty  a  tone  that 
Jacques  immediately  rose  and  looked  at  the  Duchess 
with  a  questioning  expression,  as  though  asking  her 
her  meaning.    He  had  never  allowed  any  woman  to 


AMERICAN  NOBILITY  263 

treat  him  disdainfully,  or  to  make  him  the  plaything 
of  her  caprices. 

Christiane  pacified  him  with  a  smile. 

"  Sit  down,"  she  said  gently,  "  and  do  not  look  like 
an  offended  god.  You  must  have  a  hundred  interest- 
ing things  to  tell  me.  First  of  all,  what  do  you  think 
of  marriage  ?  " 

"  Everything  has  been  very  pleasant,"  he  answered, 
but  from  the  tone  of  his  voice  it  was  evident  that  he 
had  not  quite  recovered  from  his  annoyance.  "  Annie 
is  simply  a  treasure.  She  is  always  gay,  even-tempered, 
and  very  good-hearted.  I  do  not  imagine  that  there 
are  many  women  who  would  have  invited  their  mother- 
in-law  to  join  them  on  their  wedding-trip." 

"  No,  indeed !  " 

"  And  this  visit  was  a  very  happy  idea,  for  my 
mother  and  Annie  now  know  each  other  well  and  are 
the  best  of  friends.  I  was  very  much  afraid  that  the 
difference  of  nationality  might  prove  an  obstacle  to 
this,  but  I  was  mistaken.  How  do  you  think  Annie 
looks?" 

"  She  looks  charming.  She  has  very  much  im- 
proved," said  the  Duchess,  with  praiseworthy  honesty. 

"  Yes,  has  she  not?    And — did  you  notice ?  " 

Christiane's  eyelids  quivered. 

"  Yes — I  congratulate  you." 

"  When  I  think  that,  in  a  few  months'  time,  I  shall 
have  a  son " 

"  Or  a  daughter " 


"  No,  no,  a  son,"  repeated  Jacques.  "  Oh,  I  expect 
everything  I  want  now.  You  cannot  imagine  how 
happy  the  thought  of  this  makes  me.  I  should  have 
been  in  despair  if  my  family  had  died  out  absolutely." 

These  words  harrowed  Christiane's  very  soul. 


264  AMERICAN  NOBILITY 

"  And  what  are  your  plans  now  ?  "  she  asked,  by  way 
of  changing  the  subject. 

"  As  we  cannot  go  to  America,  I  shall  begin  by 
organising  things  for  our  house." 

With  all  a  young  man's  ardour,  Jacques  began  to 
explain  his  plans,  but,  either  warned  by  Madame  de 
Blanzac's  expression,  or  instinctively  feeling  that  it 
was  not  exactly  good  taste  to  appear  so  thoroughly 
master  of  his  wife's  money,  he  suddenly  stopped 
short. 

"  There  is  really  so  much  to  be  done,"  he  said,  "  that 
I  do  not  know  where  to  begin.  Blonay  has  not  been 
inhabited  for  twelve  years.  It  will  have  to  be  put 
in  a  habitable  state,  for  I  want  it  to  be  my  son's 
birthplace,  as  it  was  mine.  The  very  thought  that 
I  shall  see  it  again  makes  my  heart  beat.  I  shall  be 
so  glad  if  you  will  come  and  stay  with  us  there  in 
October.  I  will  show  you  all  the  nooks  and  corners 
of  the  old  home.  It  is  full  of  memories  of  my  child- 
hood and  youth.  You  have  come  so  thoroughly  into 
my  life,  that  I  shall  want  you  at  Blonay,  just  as  I 
wanted  you  at  Rome." 

"  At  Rome,  during  your  honeymoon  ?  "  exclaimed  the 
Duchess,  appearing  to  doubt  his  words,  simply  for 
the  pleasure  of  hearing  him  repeat  what  she  knew  to 
be  true. 

"  Yes,  Annie  is  a  foreigner  and  a  Protestant.  There 
are  crowds  of  things  that  she  could  never  understand. 
My  thoughts  often  went  out  to  you  at  Blanzac.  If 
telepathy  really  existed,  you  would  have  known  of  it. 
You  cannot  imagine  how  delighted  I  am  to  have  you 
here,  close  to  me.  You  cannot  escape  from  me,"  added 
Jacques,  laughing. 

Christiane's  face  darkened  over. 


AMERICAN  NOBILITY  265 

"  No,"  she  said,  as  though  talking  to  herself,  "  I 
cannot." 

"  I  owe  you  a  big  debt,"  continued  Jacques,  gravely, 
"  although  you  will  not  hear  of  it,  I  hope  it  will  be 
possible  for  me,  even  if  I  cannot  pay  it  back,  to  do 
something  for  your  happiness.  In  the  meantime,  I 
want  you  to  promise  to  consider  me  your  best  friend. 
Will  you?" 

Christiane  nodded,  without  uttering  a  word,  and 
Jacques'  eyes  glistened. 

"  Thank  you,"  he  said,  quietly,  "  I  am  very  glad  you 
consent." 

He  then  rose  and  took  leave  of  her.  The  Duchess 
watched  him  go  away  with  a  sad  look  in  her  eyes. 
She  had  thought  so  much  about  him  and  she  had 
hoped —  She  asked  herself  what  she  had  hoped. 
She  could  not  answer  this  question,  nor  did  she  wish 
to  answer  it.  She  only  knew  that  she  was  horribly 
disappointed.  He  had  come  and  talked  of  his  happi- 
ness, of  his  wife,  of  his  child,  and  of  his  future  plans. 
He  had  expressed  his  gratitude  to  her  and  that  was  all. 

"  Ah,  he  is  very  much  married,"  she  said  to  herself. 
"  A  few  more  visits  like  this  one  and  I  shall  be  quite 
cured." 


CHAPTER  VI 

Whbn  a  tree  is  transplanted  into  new  soil,  its  life 
undergoes  a  sort  of  sudden  stop  and  then  its  roots 
begin  to  seek  for  the  juices  necessary  to  them.  They 
absorb  one  substance,  reject  another  and  recoil,  like 
sensitive  plants,  from  contact  with  harmful  elements. 
For  some  time  the  functions  are  irregular,  the  sap 
mounts,  stops,  and  then  begins  to  mount  again.  The 
tree  languishes  and  then  revives,  recovers  definitely, 
or  dies.  The  identical  thing  takes  place  in  a  human 
being  who  is  uprooted  and  transplanted.  Annie  went 
through  all  these  phases  and  suffered  all  the  more 
on  account  of  her  strong  individuality.  During  her 
wedding-trip,  she  had  not  felt  that  she  was  irrevocably 
separated  from  her  own  people.  When  she  was  in  the 
old  family  home  of  the  Anguilhons,  where  she  could 
not  even  hear  the  noises  of  Paris,  where  she  was  sur- 
rounded by  new  faces  and  heard  no  more  English, 
she  felt  very,  very  far  away  from  America,  and  this 
made  her  heart  rather  heavy.  As  soon  as  she  could 
escape  from  what  Clara  called  her  "  fortress,"  she 
hastened  to  the  H6tel  Castiglione.  She  went  with  her 
mother  to  the  dressmakers  and  all  about  Paris.  She 
took  pleasure  in  chaperoning  her  cousin  here  and  there, 
chattering  all  the  time,  as  though  she  had  been  de- 
prived of  speech  for  days  and  days. 

Mrs.  Villars  and  Clara  stayed  in  Paris  only  three 

266 


AMERICAN  NOBILITY  267 

weeks.  Their  departure  was  a  gi*eat  trouble  to  Annie. 
When  they  were  actually  getting  into  the  train,  it  was 
all  she  could  do  to  keep  from  sobbing.  When  once 
the  train  moved  off,  she  seized  her  husband's  arm 
instinctively,  and  clung  to  him. 

On  their  way  home  again,  Jacques  talked  to  her  of 
their  journey  to  America  in  a  year's  time.  The  year 
would  go  so  quickly,  he  assured  her.  He  went  through 
all  the  pleasant  things  they  intended  doing  and,  with 
a  few  of  the  tender  words  which  he  knew  so  well  how 
to  say,  he  managed  to  restore  her  good  spirits. 

With  the  common-sense  that  characterised  her,  Annie 
tried  to  initiate  herself  into  the  ways  and  customs  of 
the  people  among  whom  she  was  to  live.  Madame 
d'Anguilhon  helped  her  in  the  most  intelligent  and 
kindly  way.  She  drew  up  her  visiting-list  for  her, 
told  her  the  histories  of  the  persons  with  whom  she 
would  have  intercourse,  and  did  her  best  to  give  her 
all  the  necessary  information  about  everything. 

Every  day,  Annie  took  her  Paris  correspondence  to 
her  mother-in-law,  who  told  her  the  terms  to  be  em- 
ployed in  her  various  letters  and  gave  her  details  about 
the  charitable  institutions  of  which  people  wrote  to 
her.  She  also  taught  her  how  to  keep  house.  Annie 
was  soon  able  to  put  dollars  into  francs,  to  examine 
the  bills  presented  by  the  chej  and  the  butler,  to  choose 
the  menus,  and  to  give  all  the  necessary  orders.  She 
was  soon  able  to  grasp  the  material  side  of  French 
life,  but  the  mental  and  moral  side  remained  an  enigma 
to  her. 

Her  reception  by  the  Faubourg  St.-Germain  society 
somewhat  disconcerted  her.  As  the  rich  Miss  Villars, 
she  had  been  made  much  of,  but  as  the  Marchioness 
d'Anguilhon,  she  was  received  coldly.     She  was  treated 


268  AMERICAN  NOBILITY 

as  a  little  American  who  had  married  a  title,  and  she 
noticed  that  people  took  a  condescending  or  patronising 
air  when  they  talked  to  her.  In  spite  of  her  name 
and  rank,  she  was  less  at  home  in  French  society  than 
she  had  been  the  year  before.  At  dinners,  receptions, 
and  when  paying  calls,  people  talked  of  persons  and 
families  she  did  not  know  and  stories  were  told  which 
she  was  at  a  loss  to  comprehend.  She  was  not  well 
up  in  the  intrigues,  gossip,  politics,  or  literature  of  the 
day  and  could  not,  therefore,  take  part  in  the  discus- 
sions. People  who  were  introduced  to  her,  or  to  whom 
she  was  introduced,  soon  saw  that  she  was  not  au 
courant  and  just  exchanged  a  few  commonplace  re- 
marks with  her.  She  came  away  from  all  these  recep- 
tions bewildered  and  disconcerted.  In  this  foreign 
atmosphere,  she  was,  of  course,  struck  by  the  defects 
which  were  the  most  objectionable  to  her,  such  as 
sentimentality,  exaggeration,  and  everything  artificial. 
Some  of  the  people  seemed  to  her  to  be  too  prudish 
and  others  too  free.  The  latter  both  amused  and 
shocked  her.  When  she  saw  certain  smiles  on  the  lips 
of  women  and  certain  expressions  in  men's  eyes,  she 
felt  uncomfortable  and  was  glad  to  go  and  take  refuge 
among  the  dowagers.  This  was  considered  to  be  rather 
clever  scheming  on  her  part.  She  was  disgusted  to 
hear  the  conversation  turn  constantly  on  the  subject 
of  love  and  on  the  conjugal  troubles  of  this  husband 
or  that  wife.  French  flirtation  was  a  revelation  to 
her,  and  a  revelation  that  was  neither  pleasant  nor 
reassuring.  She  was  horrified  to  hear  men  and  women 
of  the  highest  rank  freely  discussing  certain  subjects, 
and  she  could  not  help  expressing  her  indignation  to 
Madame  de  Keradieu. 
"  My  dear  child,"  answered  the  Baroness,  "  you  must 


AMERICAN  NOBILITY  269 

take  into  account  the  fact  that  English  is  a  language 
without  delicate  shades.  It  is  a  very  strong  language 
and  it  makes  vulgar  things  sound  absolutely  ignoble, 
whilst  the  French  language  renders  them  irresistibly 
droll.  You  have  been  struck  by  the  two  extremes,  but 
you  need  not  be  alarmed.  In  the  Faubourg  society, 
you  will  find  a  good  average  of  virtuous  people,  quite 
enough  to  satisfy  you." 

"  How  I  pity  American  women  who  have  married 
over  here  just  to  get  a  title ! " 

"  I  know  a  few  who  seem  very  happy." 

"  Oh,  that  is  surely  impossible,"  exclaimed  Annie, 
impetuously.  "  If  I  did  not  care  for  Jacques  as  much 
as  I  do,  I  should  take  the  first  boat  back  to  America." 

"  And  before  the  end  of  a  year,  my  dear  girl,"  said 
Madame  de  Keradieu,  "  you  would  have  returned  to 
Paris." 

During  the  first  few  months,  Annie's  life  would  not 
have  been  enviable,  if  she  had  not  had  the  friendship 
of  the  Keradieus,  of  the  Duchess  de  Blanzae  and  the 
Viscount  de  Nozay. 

The  Duchess  was  not  jealous  of  Annie,  as  she  felt 
that  she  and  her  husband  were  so  far  apart.  She  felt 
a  curious  desire  to  be  kind  to  her.  In  society,  she 
took  pains  to  show  her  up  to  the  best  advantage  and 
came  to  her  rescue  constantly,  in  a  hundred  diflferent 
ways.  When  Annie  met  her  glance  or  her  smile,  she 
always  felt  as  though  some  one  had  taken  her  by  the 
hand.  She  often  went  to  the  Duchess  for  advice, 
and  there  was  great  intimacy  between  the  two 
households. 

The  Viscount  de  Nozay  liked  Annie's  society.  With 
her  moral  and  physical  healthiness,  she  had  a  restful 
effect  on  him,  after  so  many  nervous  women  and  so 


270  AMERICAN  NOBILITY 

many,  too,  with  nervous  disorders.  Her  simple-minded- 
ness amazed  him.  It  was  the  first  time  he  had  ever 
been  able  to  read  a  feminine  soul  without  the  least 
difficulty. 

One  day,  on  seeing  her  fresh,  young  face  among  a 
group  of  women,  whose  eyes  and  lips  had  been  cleverly 
touched  up  and  whose  hair  had  been  dyed  golden  or 
red,  he  said  to  himself  in  astonishment :  "  But  she 
does  not  even  put  any  powder  on  her  face ! "  This 
fact  seemed  to  mean  to  him  that  she  was  absolutely 
without  a  woman's  weapons,  and  he  took  her,  in  a  way, 
under  his  protection.  She  always  found  him  near  her 
when  she  needed  him.  Guy  now  had  a  rocking-chair 
at  his  disposal  at  the  Marchioness  d'Anguilhon's,  as 
well  as  at  the  Keradieus,  and  he  declared  that  he  had 
suflQcient  consolation  for  the  rest  of  his  life. 

It  was  not  only  in  society  that  Annie  felt  strange, 
but  in  her  own  house,  too.  She  could  not  get  used  to 
the  ways  of  the  servants.  The  importance  that  the 
Faubourg  domestics  put  on,  irritated,  and  almost  in- 
timidated her.  She  had  none  of  those  words  at  her 
command  which  make  the  intercourse  between  servants 
and  their  employers  go  smoothly.  Words  were  just 
what  she  lacked.  She  only  appreciated  deeds.  She 
was  one  of  those  rich  people  who  never  have  any- 
thing but  gold  coins  with  them,  who  never  carry  small 
change. 

Annie  felt  nothing  yet  of  that  sentiment,  so  strong 
and  sweet,  of  which  her  mother-in-law  had  told  her. 
When  she  had  taken  the  first  little  garments  of  the 
layette  to  show  to  Madame  d'Anguilhon,  and  had  seen 
the  tears  come  to  her  eyes  and  her  fingers  tremble  as 
she  handled  them,  and  then  had  heard  her  murmur: 
"  I  never  imagined  it  would  be  so  sweet  to  feel  one's 


AMERICAN  NOBILITY  271 

self  a  grandmother,"  she  had  felt  ashamed  of  her  own 
indifference.  She  could  not  help  it,  though,  and  then, 
too,  she  had  not  recovered  from  her  disappointment 
at  not  being  able  to  go  to  Clara's  wedding.  When  she 
had  read  the  description  of  the  ceremony  in  the  news- 
papers, she  had  had  a  fit  of  anger  and  grief.  She 
thought  of  the  effect  Jacques  would  have  produced,  as 
they  walked  up  the  church  aisle.  All  eyes  would  have 
been  fixed  on  him,  and  every  one  would  have  envied  her ! 
"  It  really  is  too  annoying,"  she  had  kept  saying  to 
herself  and  she  wished,  at  the  bottom  of  her  heart,  that 
this  precious  baby  had  stayed  a  little  longer  among 
the  angels.  The  presence  of  Jacques  was  always 
enough,  though,  to  chase  away  her  home-sickness  and 
all  her  regrets.  When  he  was  with  her,  she  was  per- 
fectly happy.  But,  unfortunately,  he  was  not  often 
with  her  now.  From  morning  to  night,  he  was  occu- 
pied with  the  arrangements  for  their  house.  He  had 
to  see  lawyers,  tradespeople,  and  workmen  of  all  kinds. 
He  went  to  Blonay  every  week,  to  hurry  on  the  repairs 
and  alterations,  for  he  wanted  to  have  everything  ready 
for  June.  He  very  rarely  had  time,  even,  to  go  with 
Annie  to  the  Bois,  in  the  mornings. 

She  had  felt  a  little  pang  when  she  had  seen  that 
her  husband  was  to  have  a  suite  of  rooms  to  himself. 
This  French  arrangement,  which  leaves  a  husband  and 
wife  a  certain  freedom,  seemed  absurd  to  Annie.  It 
was  all  very  well,  as  she  said  to  herself,  if  they 
wanted  to  play  The  Ironmaster.  She  realised  that  the 
intimacy  of  Cannes  and  Rome  was  all  over  and  she 
felt  almost  like  a  widow.  In  Paris,  Jacques  seemed 
to  her  like  another  man.  He  was  less  boyish  and 
more  important  as  it  were.  She  did  not  care  to  go 
to  his  rooms  without  some  pretext,  but  she  always 


272  AMERICAN  NOBILITY 

found  one  easily  enough.  She  liked  paying  these  little 
visits.  The  Marquis,  with  his  exquisite  courtesy,  al- 
ways rose  to  receive  her  and  welcomed  her  with  some 
pretty  little  speech.  She  would  sit  down  on  the  arm 
of  his  chair,  as  that  was  always  her  favourite  place 
and,  perched  up  there,  with  his  arm  round  her,  she 
chattered  to  her  heart's  content  and  found  it  very 
amusing. 

It  seemed  to  Annie,  though,  that  in  Paris,  there  were 
too  many  people  and  too  many  things  between  herself 
and  her  husband.  Sometimes  she  regretted  that  he 
was  not  a  simple  American.  They  would  have  been 
more  free  and  more  happy,  as  they  could  have  shut 
up  their  house  and  started  oflE  to  Egypt,  India,  or 
China  so  easily.  She  liked  his  name  and  title,  but 
they  certainly  did  bring,  in  their  train,  a  whole  crowd 
of  obligations.  She  felt  as  though  she  had  been  caught 
in  a  network,  the  meshes  of  which  were  being  drawn 
up  around  her.  She  wondered  in  alarm,  whether,  like 
most  of  the  women  of  the  aristocracy,  she  should  be 
always  obliged  to  turn  round  in  the  same  circle.  For 
the  sake  of  reassuring  herself  on  this  score,  she  was 
always  finding  a  diflferent  way  of  making  Jacques 
repeat  that  he  was  modern,  extremely  modern,  that 
he  liked  travelling,  and  that  he  was  longing  to  see 
America. 


CHAPTER  VII 

When  a  soul  is  destined  to  experience  passionate 
love,  that  love  will  develop  in  its  own  good  time,  and 
neither  will-power  nor  any  efforts  will  prevent  it  from 
following  its  course  and  accomplishing  its  work  of 
elevation  or  degradation,  of  life  or  death.  It  was  thus 
with  Christiane's  love  for  the  Marquis  d'Anguilhon. 

To  all  appearance,  Jacques  was  just  the  same  as 
ever  with  the  Duchess.  He  went  to  see  her  nearly 
every  day,  he  consulted  her  about  everything,  and  had 
the  warmest  friendship  for  her.  She  felt,  though,  that 
he  had,  in  a  way,  escaped  from  her  power.  He  looked 
at  her  and  did  not  see  her.  There  was  nothing  now 
in  his  kiss  on  her  hand  and  their  conversations  were 
absolutely  commonplace.  He  appeared  to  avoid  touch- 
ing on  all  dangerous  subjects.  It  was  all  in  vain  that 
Christiane  tried  to  console  herself  by  saying  that  he 
was  "  very  much  married."  That  did  not  cure  her  at 
all.  When  he  came  near  her,  her  whole  being  thrilled, 
she  was  filled  with  divine  joy,  and  the  very  sun  seemed 
to  be  brighter.  When  he  went  away,  she  felt  an  in- 
ward wrench  and  a  horrible  sensation  of  cold.  It  was 
no  good  reasoning  with  herself,  as  this  phenomenon 
took  place  in  spite  of  all  her  reasoning.  Pride,  rather 
than  virtue,  prevented  the  Duchess  from  attempting  to 
win  Jacques  back.  The  idea  of  sharing  his  love  with 
another  woman  was  revolting.  She  had  always  con- 
18  273 


274  AMERICAN  NOBILITY 

sidered  that,  in  such  cases,  the  lover  was  more  ridi- 
culous than  the  husband,  the  mistress  more  to  be  pitied 
than  the  legitimate  wife.  She  had  often  argued  in 
this  way  and  it  was  her  conviction.  The  love  she  felt 
for  the  Marquis  humiliated  her.  It  was  an  affront  to 
her  character  and  to  her  past  life.  She  would  have 
denied  it  in  the  very  face  of  death,  and  she  was  only 
tranquil  because  she  thought  that  she  was  capable  of 
hiding  it  from  everyone. 

Christiane  belonged  to  the  same  feminine  type  as  St. 
Theresa.  She  had  the  capacity  of  feeling  every  kind 
of  voluptuousness,  even  that  of  grief.  In  the  end,  she 
found  a  certain  enjoyment  in  suffering.  Her  love  be- 
came all  the  dearer  to  her,  because  she  was  crucifying 
it.  It  was  as  though  she  bore  within  her  something 
that  was  living.  She  would  exclaim  sometimes  in  a 
sort  of  ecstasy :  "  I  am  in  love,  I  am  in  love ! "  and 
this  state  seemed  preferable  to  her  to  the  n^ant  in 
which  she  had  hitherto  been  living. 

Dr.  Moreau  knew  that  she  was  no  longer  struggling 
and  so  he  struggled  for  her.  He  endeavoured  to  inter- 
est her  in  charitable  work  as  before.  She  would  listen 
to  him  for  a  few  minutes  and  then  become  absent- 
minded.  She  would  answer  in  monosyllables  and 
simply  offer  money  for  the  charity  in  question.  The 
year  before,  she  had  been  like  a  beneficent  goddess  in 
her  bountiful,  genial  charity,  but  now  she  was  only 
a  poor  woman  in  love,  a  woman  whose  thoughts  were 
all  centred  in  one  being. 

Dr.  Moreau  felt  the  deepest  pity  for  her.  He  said 
to  himself  that  the  physical  affinities  which  existed 
between  her  and  Jacques  would,  in  the  end,  bring  them 
together.  He  knew  too  much  of  life  not  to  be  aware 
that  adventures  of  this  kind  invariably  terminate  in  a 


AMERICAN  NOBILITY  275 

catastrophe,  and  he  vowed  to  himself  that  he  would 
watch  over  the  Duchess  and  save  her,  if  possible.  He 
would  save  her  and  give  her  to  the  unfortunates  of 
the  world. 


CHAPTER  VIII 

The  Marquis  d'Anguilhon  had  no  intention  of  using 
their  money  in  trying  to  outdo,  in  luxury,  all  the  finan- 
ciers, rich  manufacturers,  and  foreign  parvenus.  Like 
most  of  the  men  of  the  French  aristocracy,  he  felt  that 
he  owed  Paris  a  sort  of  grudge.  He  argued  that  the 
nobility,  ruined  in  the  name  of  humanitarian  ideas, 
might  very  well,  now,  turn  this  weapon  against  its 
enemies.  It  might  live  as  much  as  possible  in  its 
chateaux,  remake  its  estates,  encourage  agriculture, 
and  help  the  peasants.  In  a  word,  it  might  put  into 
practice  the  famous  principles  which  the  middle  class, 
occupied  in  getting  rich  itself,  had  merely  proclaimed. 
Jacques  was  quite  prepared  to  set  the  example.  With 
his  wife's  approval,  he  had  decided  that  the  appoint- 
ments of  their  town  house,  in  Paris,  should  be  on  quite 
a  simple  scale  and  that  they  would  give  to  Blonay 
its  original  splendour. 

At  the  very  commencement  of  feudal  times,  the 
Anguilhons  had  built  their  family  nest  on  a  hill  in 
the  province  of  Bourbonnais,  about  an  hour's  journey 
from  Moulins,  and  the  chateau  was  considered  one  of 
the  finest  in  France.  The  news  of  the  return  of  the 
owners  caused  great  excitement  in  the  neighbourhood. 
The  name  of  the  Anguilhons  was  in  all  the  legends 
and  in  all  the  stories  that  people  told  in  the  long 
winter  evenings.     In  1789,  the  tenants  had  defended 

276 


AMERICAN  NOBILITY  277 

the  cha,teau  against  the  revolutionary  bands.  Jacques' 
grandfather  had  rescued  two  children  from  fire  in  a 
burning  farm-house.  In  all  the  epidemics,  the  chltteau 
people  had  never  been  afraid  to  risk  their  lives,  and 
had  braved  contagion  at  the  bedside  of  their  tenants. 
Every  winter,  the  Marchioness  had  always  sent  warm 
garments  and  all  the  money  she  could  spare  for  the 
Blonay  poor.  When  any  of  the  people  had  business  in 
Paris,  they  never  failed  to  go  and  pay  their  respects 
to  "  their  lady."  They  were  always  sure  of  a  welcome 
and  they  had  always  found  a  good  meal  in  the  modest 
kitchen  of  the  Rue  de  Bellechasse.  All  these  things 
had  given  the  Anguilhons  a  popularity  which  neither 
politics  nor  bribery  could  diminish.  In  many  of  the 
little  homes,  the  Anguilhons  were  still  prayed  for  and 
when  the  parish  priest  announced  the  anniversary  of 
the  death  of  a  member  of  the  family,  these  poor  people 
considered  it  their  duty  to  be  present  at  the  Mass. 
The  peasant  is  instinctively  conservative,  and  he  does 
not  care  for  middle-class  people  who  are  either  too 
familiar  or  too  proud.  Putting  money  by  slowly  him- 
self, the  peasant  has  not  much  faith  in  the  honesty  of 
rapidly-made  fortunes.  Then,  too,  now  that  he  no 
longer  fears  the  taxes  which  he  had  been  led  to  believe 
he  would  have  to  pay,  he  prefers  the  chMeau  being 
inhabited  by  an  old  aristocratic  family  rather  than 
by  parvenus  who,  according  to  him  are  "  nobodies." 

On  his  return  to  Paris,  Jacques  had  put  Blonay  into 
the  hands  of  a  clever  architect.  He  had  employed 
workmen  day  and  night,  so  that  the  house  was  quite 
ready  for  the  early  part  of  June.  The  priest  had 
begged  Jacques  to  come  back  on  the  day  of  the  village 
f^te,  so  that  he  could  be  welcomed  without  giving  any 
offence  to  the  Mayor. 


278  AMERICAN  NOBILITY 

On  the  sixteenth  of  June,  Jacques,  with  his  wife  and 
mother,  arrived  at  Moulins.  They  stopped  at  the  hotel 
to  have  luncheon  and  then  got  into  a  landau  drawn 
by  two  superb  horses. 

It  was  beautiful  weather  and,  from  Moulins  to 
Blonay,  the  road  lies  half-way  up  some  green  slopes 
and  gradually  mounts  until  it  overlooks  the  valley. 
Annie  could  not  stop  to  admire  the  fine  panorama 
which  stretched  before  her  to  the  right,  as  she  was 
looking  for  the  chateau. 

"  Where  is  it?  "  she  asked,  with  childish  impatience. 

"  There,"  exclaimed  Jacques  suddenly. 

It  was  as  though  his  word  had  been  magic,  for  the 
imposing  building  loomed  out  before  them  in  the  dis- 
tance, the  stately  outlines  of  a  fifteenth-century 
cha,teau,  with  its  pepper-box  towers. 

"  How  beautiful !  "  exclaimed  Annie. 

"Yes,  is  it  not?"  said  the  Marquis,  gazing  proudly 
at  the  old  family  home. 

As  soon  as  the  carriage  was  seen,  the  flag  with  the 
arms  of  the  Anguilhons  was  hoisted  on  the  chUteau 
and  then  the  flag  of  the  United  States. 

At  the  sight  of  this,  Annie  uttered  a  cry  of  joy. 

"  Oh,  Jacques,  thank  you ! "  she  said,  flushing  with 
pleasure. 

"  I  wanted  you  to  feel  quite  at  home,  my  little 
Yankee,"  answered  the  Marquis,  smiling. 

As  the  carriage  passed  under  the  triumphal  arch, 
which  had  been  put  up  at  the  entrance  of  the  village, 
the  bells  pealed  out  joyfully,  caps  were  waved,  and 
enthusiastic  "  Hurrahs  "  were  to  be  heard  from  all 
sides.  Jacques  bowed  in  return  with  a  truly  royal 
graciousness  and  with  that  kindly,  and  at  the  same 
time  dignified,  manner,  that  made  him  so  fascinating. 


AMERICAN  NOBILITY  279 

Both  he  and  his  mother  were  deeply  affected.  Annie 
was  simply  delighted.  It  was  the  first  time  in  her 
life  that  she  had  experienced  the  pleasure  of  an  ovation 
and  she  thought  it  perfectly  delightful.  There  was 
only  one  thing  she  regretted  and  that  was  that  her 
mother,  her  aunts,  Clara,  and  all  New  York  were  not 
there  to  witness  this  triumphal  entry.  The  carriage 
drew  up  at  the  church.  It  had  been  decided  that  they 
should  get  there  in  time  for  Mass.  The  priest  came 
to  the  door  to  receive  them  and  conducted  them  to 
their  pew,  the  pew  which  had  been  empty  for  twelve 
years.  At  the  risk  of  being  sent  away.  Monsieur 
Xambride  sang  a  Te  Deum  and  addressed  a  few  words 
of  welcome  from  the  pulpit  to  the  returned  exiles. 
Madame  d'Anguilhon  had  asked  to  be  allowed  to  offer 
the  consecrated  bread,  which  was  given  not  only  to 
those  who  entered  the  church,  but  also  to  the  crowd 
gathered  in  the  Square.  On  leaving  the  church,  two 
pupils  of  the  "  Sisters  of  the  Presentation  "  stepped 
forward  and  handed  magnificent  bouquets  of  a  rose 
peculiar  to  that  district  to  the  Marchioness  and  her 
daughter-in-law.  Hundreds  of  voices  then  cried :  "  Long 
live  the  Marquis!  Long  live  the  Marchioness,"  and 
then  :  "  Hurrah  for  America !  "  Well-meaning  as  this 
last  cry  was,  Annie  did  not  like  it.  It  gave  her  the 
impression  that  she  was  not  looked  upon  as  one  of 
the  family. 

The  carriage  now  went  on  its  way.  It  passed  slowly 
along  between  two  lines  of  people,  curious  to  see  the 
new  arrivals.  A  second  triumphal  arch  had  been  put 
up  at  the  other  end  of  the  village  and,  after  passing 
under  this,  they  turned  to  the  right,  continued  another 
five  minutes,  and  then  came  to  the  boundaries  of  the 
estate.     They  drove  on  up-hill,  crossed  the  drawbridge. 


280  AMERICAN  NOBILITY 

now  always  lowered,  entered  the  court  of  honour,  and, 
after  describing  a  magnificent  curve,  drew  up  at  the 
stone  steps  of  the  house. 

Jacques  was  too  deeply  affected  to  trust  himself  to 
speak.  He  only  clasped  the  hand  which  his  wife  put 
into  his,  as  she  stepped  down  from  the  carriage. 

Blonay  was  built  on  the  heights.  From  the  wide 
terrace,  above  which  the  imposing  and  massive  chMeau 
rose,  the  whole  valley  could  be  seen,  and  grassy  slopes 
led  down  to  a  beautiful  park.  In  spite  of  the  severity 
of  its  style  and  of  its  interior  decoration,  it  was  neither 
hard-looking  nor  cold.  The  two  principal  fagades  had 
an  east  and  west  aspect.  There  was  so  much  sun  and 
light  in  the  vast  rooms  that  the  personages  on  the 
tapestried  walls  appeared  to  be  smiling,  and  the  old 
oak  woodwork  shone.  Among  Jacques'  ancestors, 
there  had  been  scientific  men,  chroniclers,  and  poets, 
as  well  as  warriors.  The  latter  had  bequeathed  their 
weapons  and  trophies  of  victory  to  their  descendants 
and  the  former  had  enriched  the  library  and  had 
bought  works  of  art.  The  brilliant  wit  and  intelligence 
and  the  generous  soul  of  the  Anguilhons  had  put  some- 
thing warm  and  congenial  into  the  family  abode  which 
made  a  very  agreeable  impression  on  Annie. 

From  the  very  first  minute,  she  felt  more  at  home 
here  than  she  had  ever  felt  in  the  Rue  de  Varenne 
house,  where  she  had  been  living  for  three  months. 
If  Jacques  had  allowed  her,  she  would  have  begun  at 
once  to  inspect  the  cha,teau,  but  he  insisted  on  her 
resting  until  luncheon.  He  and  his  mother  took  her 
to  her  rooms,  passing  through  the  picture-gallery 
v/ith  its  portraits  of  the  Anguilhons.  The  American 
girl  felt  almost  shy  as  she  glanced  at  these  grand 
ladies,  all  so  stiff  and  so  imposing,  at  the  knights 


AMERICAN  NOBILITY  281 

in  their  armour  and  the  nobles  with  their  frills  and 
doublets. 

"  I  shall  have  to  make  their  acquaintance,"  she 
said. 

"  That  will  be  very  easy,"  answered  the  Marquis. 
"  You  will  find  their  history  written  in  our  archives. 
We  will  look  them  up  together." 

They  passed  through  a  suite  of  admirably-furnished 
reception  rooms,  crossed  a  landing,  and  Annie  was 
then  shown  into  her  rooms.  She  was  capable  of  appre- 
ciating what  was  really  beautiful  and  rather  liked  the 
simplicity  of  her  drawing-room,  but  she  was  simply 
delighted  when  Jacques  showed  her  the  boudoir  that 
he  had  arranged  for  her  in  the  tower,  which  formed 
one  of  the  corners  of  the  cha,teau.  This  room  was 
hung  with  Persian  draperies,  the  furniture  was  very 
beautiful,  and  there  were  books  and  flowers  and 
everything  necessary  for  rest  and  work. 

"  And  to  think  that  all  my  life  I  have  wanted  a 
room  in  a  tower,"  she  exclaimed,  "  and  in  a  tower  like 
this,"  she  continued,  "  old  and  gi'ey  with  a  cone-shaped 
roof." 

"  I  am  very  glad  to  be  able  to  satisfy  your  fancy," 
answered  Jacques. 

"  I  had  never  dreamed  of  so  beautiful  a  view, 
though,"  added  Annie,  looking  at  the  lovely  valley, 
crossed  by  the  Allier  and  at  the  blue  chain  of  the 
Puy-de-D6me  mountains. 

Madame  d'Anguilhon  laid  her  hand  gently  on  her 
daughter-in-law's  shoulder. 

"  Now,  my  dear  child,  enough  admiration  for  the 
present.    You  must  rest  a  little." 

"  Well,  I  will  go  and  rest,  just  to  please  you." 

"  That  is  right." 


282  AMERICAN  NOBILITY 

"  I  hope  you  will  be  happy  here,"  she  said,  kissing 
Annie,  and  mentally  she  added,  "  happier  than  I  was." 

"  Oh,  I  am  sure  I  shall  be,"  answered  the  young 
wife,  with  her  fine  confidence. 

After  luncheon,  Annie  wanted  to  have  an  idea  of 
her  home.  She  had  never  seen  a  real  cha,teau,  except 
in  pictures,  so  that  she  was  greatly  impressed  by 
Blonay  as  a  whole.  The  thickness  of  the  walls,  the 
monumental  fire-places,  and  all  that  reminded  her  of 
far-back  times  of  which  she  knew  so  little,  caused  her 
astonishment  mingled  with  respect.  When  she  com- 
pared this  old  dwelling  with  the  most  beautiful  houses 
she  knew  in  New  York,  she  realised  better  than  she 
had  ever  done  the  difi'erence  which  exists  between 
aristocracy  and  plutocracy. 

With  the  approval  of  her  daughter-in-law,  Madame 
d'Anguilhon  had  invited  the  priest  to  dinner.  Mon- 
sieur Nambride  was  a  man  of  superior  intelligence, 
very  sincere  and  a  gentleman.  For  the  last  twenty- 
five  years,  he  had  been  a  friend  of  the  Anguilhons  and 
a  devoted  and  faithful  friend  too.  He  had  been  at 
the  death-bed  of  the  Marquis,  and  Madame  d'Anguilhon 
had  always  been  able  to  count  on  his  good  advice  and 
his  moral  help.  On  hearing  of  Jacques'  engagement 
to  a  foreigner  and  a  Protestant,  he  had  had  grave  fears. 
He  considered  a  mixed  marriage  of  this  kind  as  an 
imperfect  union,  and  he  had  had  dreadful  visions  of 
the  Anglican  Church,  of  deaconesses,  and  of  attempts 
at  religious  conversion.  As  soon  as  he  had  seen  Annie, 
though,  he  had  felt  reassured.  Her  respectful  be- 
ha\iour  during  Mass  gave  him  a  very  good  opinion  as 
regarded  her  tact  and  her  character. 

Annie,  on  her  side,  who  had  heard  so  much  about  the 
influence  of  the  Catholic  priest  in  the  families  of  the 


AMERICAN  NOBILITY  283 

aristocracy,  had  very  much  dreaded  the  Blonay  one. 
She  was  too  thoroughly  American  to  be  able  to 
endure  the  intervention  of  any  one  in  her  household 
and  she  intended  to  be  on  her  guard.  She  was  very 
favourably  impressed  by  the  distinction  and  refinement 
of  Monsieur  Nambride  and  she  was  fascinated  by  his 
face,  with  its  regular  features,  from  which  shone  forth 
a  good  and  loyal  soul.  She  said  to  herself  that  he 
was  a  gentleman  and  that  one  fact  set  her  mind  at 
rest,  as  far  as  he  was  concerned. 

The  thought  of  the  first  dinner  made  Annie  feel  very 
nervous.  Her  role  as  lady  of  the  manor  rather 
alarmed  her  and  she  had  never  realised  that  she  was 
a  marchioness  so  much  before.  In  the  superb  oak 
dining-room,  with  its  armorial  bearings,  its  high- 
backed  chairs,  the  footmen  in  full  livery,  and  the 
butler  as  imposing  as  some  high  functionary,  she  even 
felt  herself  that  she  was  quite  an  important  person. 
On  looking  around  her,  Annie  remembered  the  words 
of  her  husband  at  Assisi,  and  she  felt  that  it  had 
taken  several  centuries  to  bring  this  home  to  the 
state  of  perfection  which  so  charmed  her.  She  her- 
self looked  like  a  modern  portrait  in  an  antique 
frame,  and  the  contrast  was  so  pretty  that  it  brought 
a  smile  of  satisfaction,  several  times,  to  the  lips  of 
the  Marquis. 

The  dinner  went  off  very  pleasantly  and  they  finished 
the  evening  on  the  terrace.  Monsieur  Nambride  talked 
well  and  Annie  liked  his  Touraine  French.  He  quite 
won  her  heart,  though,  by  the  interest  he  took  in 
American  things.  On  going  away,  he  thanked  her  for 
the  money  she  had  given  for  distribution  among  the 
poor. 

"  I  shall  give  you  an  account  of  everything  that  is 


284  AMERICAN  NOBILITY 

done  with  it,  Madame,"  he  said.  "  I  should  like  you 
to  know  all  the  happiness  and  relief  the  sum  you  have 
placed  at  my  disposal  means.  I  thank  God  for  send- 
ing you  to  us.  Now  that  we  are  four,"  he  added, 
looking  at  Jacques  and  his  mother,  "  we  shall  be  able 
to  do  great  things."  With  these  words,  the  priest  took 
leave  of  his  hosts. 

Catherine  had  spent  the  whole  afternoon  visiting  the 
house.  It  all  seemed  to  her  very  romantic  and  it  had 
impressed  her  very  much  more  than  the  house  in  the 
Rue  de  Varenne.  At  night,  when  she  came  to  wait  on 
her  young  mistress,  she  looked  radiant. 

"  Oh,  my  darling,  what  a  beautiful  home  you  will 
have !  "  she  said. 

"  Very  beautiful,  indeed,"  answered  Annie,  "  and  I 
feel  that  I  shall  be  happy  here," 

Catherine  began  to  talk  enthusiastically  about  the 
chapel,  the  underground  passages,  the  enormous 
kitchens,  the  conservatories,  and  the  park. 

"  If  only  your  aunts  and  your  cousins  could  see  it 
all !  "  she  added. 

"  I  will  send  them  photographs,"  said  Annie,  "  and 
I  am  going  to  write  to  mother,  at  once." 

"  Oh,  not  to-night,  my  darling !  "  protested  Makay. 

"  Yes,  I  must,  or  I  should  not  be  able  to  sleep." 

In  spite  of  Catherine's  entreaties,  Annie  insisted  on 
putting  on  her  dressing-gown  and  settling  herself  in 
an  armchair,  with  her  writing-pad  on  her  knees.  She 
at  once  began  her  letter,  and  wrote  ofif  half  a  dozen 
pages  without  stopping.  She  described  her  triumphal 
entry  into  Blonay  and  added : 

"  I  felt  like  the  Queen  of  Italy  passing  along  the 
Corso  and  I  discovered  that  it  is  not  as  easy  as  people 
think  to  play  the  part  of  an  important  person."    At 


AMERICAN  NOBILITY  285 

the  close  of  her  letter  she  said :  "  You  ought,  all  of 
Tou,  to  be  very  proud  and  very  pleased  to  hear  that 
the  American  flag  is  floating  over  one  of  the  oldest 
castles  in  France." 


CHAPTER  IX 

Annie  expected  the  birth  of  her  child  at  the  begin- 
ning of  August  and  she  kept  saying  that  she  had  never 
felt  better  in  her  life.  Madame  d'Anguilhon  was  both 
amazed  and  alarmed  at  her  activity.  The  very  day 
after  her  arrival,  she  had  insisted  on  visiting  Moulins 
and  she  went  for  an  excursion  in  the  neighbourhood 
every  day.  She  enjoyed  nothing  as  much  as  going  to 
Vichy,  where  the  season  was  at  its  height.  She  would 
lunch  at  the  restaurant  of  the  H6tel  des  Ambassadeurs, 
listen  to  the  music  for  a  short  time  and  return  home, 
delighted  to  have  seen  a  little  life  and  not  in  the  least 
tired.  The  provincial  towns,  with  the  grass  growing 
in  the  streets,  caused  her  the  greatest  astonishment. 
She  watched  the  people  and  was  surprised  that  the 
French  could  be  so  solemn-looking.  One  day,  on  going 
to  pay  a  call  at  a  very  old  house  in  Moulins,  she  said 
to  her  husband  quite  seriously: 

"  Are  you  sure  that  the  people  are  alive  inside  ?  " 

"  Alive?  "  exclaimed  Jacques.  "  They  are  very  much 
alive  and  very  much  there,  too." 

She  was  not  long  in  discovering  for  herself  that 
these  provincial  people,  whom  she  had  scarcely  thought 
alive,  have  to  be  taken  into  account  in  France. 

Annie  had  imagined  that  her  name  and  her  great 
wealth  would  suffice  for  winning  a  certain  popularity 
in  the  neighbourhood.     She  was  somewhat  astonished 

286 


AMERICAN  NOBILITY  287 

to  find  that  she  was  treated  by  the  Blonay  people,  and 
even  by  the  peasants,  with  reserve  and  even  with  dis- 
trust. When  she  went  through  the  village,  people 
greeted  her  respectfully,  they  even  came  out  to  their 
doorsteps  to  see  her,  but  they  looked  at  her  with  more 
curiosity  than  real  liking.  The  children  would  stop 
playing  as  she  approached,  nudge  each  other,  and 
whisper :  "  Here 's  the  American  lady,"  very  much  as 
they  might  have  said :     "  Here  's  the  Bogey !  " 

She  felt  rather  humiliated  by  all  this,  all  the  more 
as  she  had  the  best  intentions  and  was  quite  prepared 
to  act  as  a  Frenchwoman  would  have  done.  Ever 
since  she  had  been  at  Blonay,  she  had  realised  that 
she  had  responsibilities,  and  she  was  anxious  to  do 
her  duty  as  lady  of  the  mannor  in  a  creditable  way. 
If  it  had  not  been  for  the  help  and  guidance  of  her 
mother-in-law  and  the  priest,  she  would  have  been 
greatly  at  a  loss  to  know  how  to  do  any  good  in  these 
fresh  surroundings.  The  dirtiness  of  the  peasants' 
houses  horrified  her  so  much  that  she  spoke  to  the 
priest  about  it. 

"  Do  not  imagine,"  he  said,  "  that  it  is  like  this 
everywhere  in  France.  Our  country  might  be  divided 
into  clean  provinces  and  dirty  provinces.  Normandy, 
Anjou,  and  Touraine  are  clean;  Brittany,  Auvergne, 
and  Bourbonnais  are,  unfortunately,  dirty.  Why  is 
this  so?  ^Ve  shall  have  to  look  for  the  cause  of  this 
vice  in  the  temperament  of  the  people.  I  have  been  in 
despair  about  it  for  twenty-five  years." 

Thereupon  Annie's  brain  began  to  work.  They 
would  build  a  sort  of  club-house,  such  as  they  have 
in  America,  where  peasants  might  meet  together  and 
find  books  and  all  sorts  of  more  wholesome  amuse- 
ments than  the  public-house.     Lecturers  might  come 


288  AMERICAN  NOBILITY 

and  teach  them  the  laws  of  health  and  keep  them  in- 
formed about  the  various  discoveries  concerning  agri- 
culture. Then  sanitary  arrangements  might  be  better 
organised  for  facilitating  cleanliness,  and  shrubs  and 
flowers  might  be  planted  round  the  cottages.  Prizes 
could  be  given  to  the  women  who  kept  their  houses 
in  the  best  order. 

The  priest  approved  all  these  ideas  enthusiastically. 
Annie's  energy  and  her  forward  movement  delighted 
him  and  he  would  rub  his  hands  and  say :  "  Hurrah 
for  America ! " 

On  the  second  of  August,  there  was  great  silence 
throughout  the  house.  The  servants  were  all  going 
about  on  tiptoes,  closing  the  doors  after  them  quietly 
and  speaking  in  hushed  voices.  The  birth  of  the  child 
was  expected  from  minute  to  minute. 

Jacques  had  taken  refuge  in  the  library.  His  face 
was  drawn  with  anxiety  and  he  was  pacing  up  and 
down  the  room  trying  to  master  his  emotion.  After 
an  hour  of  anguish,  the  door  suddenly  opened  and  the 
doctor  appeared. 

"  A  boy,"  he  announced,  triumphantly,  "  and  a  very 
fine  specimen  too.  Allow  me  to  congratulate  you. 
Everything  is  satisfactory." 

Jacques  wiped  the  cold  perspiration  from  his  face. 

"  Ah,  I  knew  it  would  be  a  boy,"  he  stammered  out, 
beaming  with  joy,  "  I  felt  sure  of  it.  It  had  to  be 
a  boy." 

As  soon  as  he  was  allowed,  he  went  to  his  wife's 
room.  His  heart  was  beating  quickly  as  he  approached 
the  bed.  He  stooped  and  kissed  Annie  so  tenderly 
that,  in  spite  of  her  languor,  she  felt  the  unusual 
fervour  of  his  caress. 

''  Oh,  what  a  nice  kiss ! "  she  murmured  and  then, 


AMERICAN  NOBILITY  289 

with  a  smile,  she  added :  "  I  am  so  glad  it  is  a 
boy." 

Madame  d'Anguilhon  now  appeared,  carrying  the 
little  one.  She  presented  it  to  the  parents  without 
uttering  a  word,  but  her  eyes  were  wet  and  her  lips 
were  quivering. 

Annie  kissed  her  child  and  then  examined  him  seri- 
ously. "  Heaven  be  thanked,  he  is  not  ugly,"  she  said, 
"  and  he  has  some  hair." 

In  his  dreams,  Jacques  had  always  thought  of  his 
son  with  wide-open  eyes,  walking  and  talking.  He  was 
a  little  taken  aback  at  this  little  red  face  with  its 
closed  eyelids.  He  pressed  his  lips  to  the  little  fore- 
head almost  timidly,  but  the  touch  of  this  warm, 
velvety  flesh,  thrilled  his  whole  being  and  paternal  love 
awoke  within  him  in  all  its  sweetness  and  in  all  its 
strength.  He  kissed  the  tiny  hands  over  and  over 
again,  stirred  to  the  very  depth  of  his  being  by  this 
new  caress. 

"  The  doctor  tells  me  he  is  a  very  fine  specimen. 
What  do  you  think.  Mother?"  he  asked,  with  a  shade 
of  anxiety  in  his  tone. 

"  He  is  admirably  well  formed  and  will  be  a  beauti- 
ful boy,"  answered  the  Marchioness.  "  You  were 
neither  as  strong  nor  as  pretty." 

"  Really?    Oh,  then  I  feel  quite  easy  in  my  mind." 

"  Jacques,"  said  Annie,  "  you  must  send  a  cable  to 
my  mother,  to  Clara  and " 

"  To  the  two  aunts,  I  suppose." 

"  Yes,  and  if  you  will  send  the  news  yourself,  I 
should  like  it " 

The  Marquis  raised  his  wife's  white  hand  to  his 
lips. 

"  I  cannot  refuse  anything,  to-day.     I  will  go  myself 

19 


290  AMERICAN  NOBILITY 

to  Moulins  and  I  will  call  at  Monsieur  Nambride's  on 
the  way,"  he  added,  kissing  his  mother. 

WTiile  his  horse  was  being  saddled,  Jacques  wrote 
out  the  messages  to  Annie's  family,  to  his  own,  and  to 
the  Duchess  de  Blanzac  and  Guy  de  Nozay.  He  smiled 
on  thinking  what  a  sorry  figure  he  would  have  cut  if 
he  had  had  to  announce  the  birth  of  a  daughter. 

The  first  experience  of  paternity,  like  first  love, 
arouses  feelings  that  never  come  a  second  time.  At 
the  thought  that  the  sap  was  mounting  once  more  in 
the  old  family  tree  and  that  a  male  oflfshoot  would 
now  perhaps  give  it  a  few  more  centuries  of  existence, 
Jacques  felt  as  though  he  himself  had  suddenly  grown 
greater  and  stronger.  His  sou !  During  the  whole  of 
his  ride  this  sweet  name  was  on  his  lips  and  in  his 
heart.  On  his  way  back  to  Blonay,  he  looked  at  the 
old  chateau  and  could  not  help  smiling  as  he  thought 
of  the  contrast  between  this  huge  nest  of  granite  and 
the  tiny  child  that  had  just  been  born  in  it.  As  he 
passed  through  the  village,  he  guessed  that  the  happy 
event  was  known  there.  The  people  came  out  to  their 
doors  to  salute  him.  The  women  smiled  with  a  know- 
ing air,  and  these  mute  congratulations  touched  him 
deeply. 

In  order  to  lessen  her  own  responsibility  and  also 
thinking  that  Annie  would  be  glad  to  have  a  relative 
and  countrywoman  of  her  own  with  her,  Madame 
d'Anguilhon  had  asked  Madame  de  Keradieu  to 
come  to  Blonay  during  her  daughter-in-law's  con- 
finement, and  very  grateful  Annie  was  to  her  for 
this  idea. 

The  young  mother  wished  to  nurse  her  baby  herself, 
and  when  she  told  her  husband  this  he  was  very  agree- 
ably surprised.    He  would  never  have  dared  to  suggest 


AMERICAN  NOBILITY  291 

it  to  her  and  he  even  felt  it  his  duty  to  point  out  to 
her  all  the  sacrifices  it  would  entail. 

"  I  know,"  she  replied,  "  but  the  doctor  says  that  I 
am  exceptionally  healthy,  and  it  seems  to  me  that  I 
ought  to  do  my  utmost  to  transmit  this  healthiness  to 
our  famous  young  offspring.  Then,  too.  Mother  nursed 
rae,  so  that  I  feel  in  a  way  obliged  to  do  for  my  child 
what  she  did  for  me.  You  see,"  she  added,  smiling, 
'*  we  Americans  do  not  go  about  trying  to  create  duties 
for  ourselves,  but  we  do  perform  those  that  are  put 
upon  us." 

As  a  result  of  this  decision,  instead  of  the  regular 
be-ribboned  wet-nurse,  the  child  had  an  English  nurse. 
Catherine  regretted,  in  the  most  comic  and  touching 
way,  that  she  could  not  be  in  two  places  at  one  time, 
as  she  would  so  much  like  to  have  brought  up  "  Miss 
Annie's  "  baby  herself.  In  the  faithful  old  servant's 
heart,  and  indeed  frequently  to  the  young  Mar- 
chioness' face,  Annie  was  still  "  Miss  Annie." 

The  convalescence  was  always  a  delightful  memory 
to  the  young  mother,  for  Jacques  was  most  charmingly 
thoughtful  and  attentive.  As  she  lay  on  her  sofa,  they 
all  came  and  talked  to  her.  Subjects  of  all  kinds  were 
freely  discussed,  religion,  politics,  and  social  questions, 
so  that  she  learned  more  about  France  and  French 
things  than  during  her  two  seasons  in  society.  With 
her  modern  and  independent  spirit,  the  opinions  she 
expressed  sometimes  had  the  effect  of  bombs  on  her 
audience.  Madame  d'Anguilhon  would  throw  her  head 
back  with  the  haughty  gesture  peculiar  to  her,  Madame 
de  Keradieu  would  look  down,  and  the  poor  priest  was 
all  at  sea,  whilst  Jacques  and  Henri  de  Keradieu  smiled 
under  their  moustaches.  One  day,  the  conversation 
had  turned  on  the  intolerance  of  the  Government  and 


292  AMERICAN  NOBILITY 

Monsieur  Nambride  told  of  the  brutal  way  in  which 
a  certain  priest  and  a  functionary  had  been  dismissed 
from  office,  because  they  were  accused  of  reactionary 
principles. 

"  Such  things  would  not  happen  in  America,  I  feel 
sure,"  said  Madame  de  Keradieu. 

"No,"  answered  Annie;  "in  the  first  place,  because 
no  one  would  think  of  trying  to  go  against  the  Republic, 
and  secondly,  because  the  churches  are  absolutely  inde- 
pendent of  the  State.  With  us,  those  who  want  a 
church  pay  the  expenses  of  it.  Candidly,  though,  when 
a  priest  or  a  functionary  is  in  the  pay  of  a  republican 
government,  he  cannot  speak  against  it  and  he  cannot 
work  for  the  Royalists  then.     It  is  simply  dishonest." 

"  You  know,"  said  Jacques  to  Monsieur  Nambride, 
"  my  wife  is  republican  at  heart." 

"  It  certainly  seems  to  me  more  natural  that  the 
sovereignty  should  be  in  the  hands  of  the  mass  than 
in  the  hands  of  one  family,"  said  Annie,  boldly.  "  A 
nation  that  respects  itself  could  only  have  one  repre- 
sentative. I  should  like  that  representative  chosen 
among  a  hundred  thousand,  to  be  perfect,  physically 
and  morally " 

"  And  good-looking,"  put  in  Monsieur  de  Keradieu, 
slily. 

"  And  good-looking,"  repeated  Annie,  "  and  that  he 
should  have  all  the  prestige  possible.  For  us,  a  nation 
of  workers,  the  representation  of  the  White  House  is, 
perhaps,  sufficient;  but,  really,  that  of  the  Champs 
Elys^es  seems  inadequate.  In  France,  the  nobles 
ought  to  have  rallied.  Under  their  influence,  the 
Republic  would  have  been  most  elegant  and  refined 
and  more  powerful  than  any  monarchy." 

"  But,  my  dear  child,"  observed  the  Marchioness, 


AMERICAN  NOBILITY  293 

"  the  nobility  has  its  traditions.  It  could  not  desert 
the  family  to  which  its  ancestors  had  sworn  allegiance. 
That  would  be  treason." 

"  No,  for  the  country  must  be  considered  first.  Then, 
too,  that  family  ought  to  have  given  an  example  of 
evolution  and  been  ready  to  sacrifice  private  ambition 
to  the  welfare  of  France." 

"  You  ask  too  much,  my  dear  girl,"  said  the  Marquis. 
"  If  only  there  were  a  little  tolerance,  though,  on  both 
sides." 

"  Well,  then,"  said  Annie,  slily,  "  I  would  advise  you 
to  make  a  beginning.  As  far  as  I  am  concerned,  I 
intend  sending  a  superb  box  of  sweetmeats,  when  Baby 
is  christened,  to  the  Major's  wife.  You  ought  to  hand 
over  to  the  Mayor  a  sum  of  money  for  the  poor,  or 
for  some  scheme  for  the  public  good." 

"  That  certainly  is  an  idea.  What  do  you  think  of 
it  ?  "  asked  Jacques,  turning  to  the  priest. 

"  A  very  good  idea,  I  fancy.  It  would  make  Mon- 
sieur Finet  have  some  consideration  for  you,  and  for 
me,  too,  into  the  bargain.  By  the  way,  he  has  just 
bought  a  house  looking  on  the  Square  and  he  would 
very  much  like  to  have  a  new  fountain  there.  Suppose 
you  gave  him  the  money  for  building  one." 

"  Good,  he  shall  have  the  fountain." 

Then,  laying  his  hand  on  his  wife's  shoulder,  Jacques 
added : 

"  Do  not  make  us  evolve  too  quickly,  though." 

Madame  d'Anguilhon  had  asked  Monsieur  and 
Madame  de  Keradieu  to  act  as  sponsors  for  her  little 
grandson.  She  wanted  him  to  have  a  young  god- 
mother, so  that  she  might  act  as  his  friend  and  adviser 
later  on. 

On  the  fifteenth  of  September,  Philippe-Henri- Anne 


294  AMERICAN  NOBILITY 

d'Anguilhou  was  baptised  in  the  chapel  of  the  chd,teau. 
After  the  ceremony,  Annie  handed  to  Monsieur  Nam- 
bride  an  envelope  "  from  Baby."  It  contained  a  deed 
of  gift  of  a  piece  of  land,  and  the  receipt  of  money 
deposited  at  the  bank,  for  building  an  agricultural 
orphanage. 

"  My  dream,  why,  it  is  my  dream,"  faltered  the  priest, 
moved  to  tears.  "  It  is  as  though  God  had  sent  a  little 
child  here  purposely  to  give  me  the  means  of  realising 
it.     It  is  absolutely  miraculous." 

When  the  young  Marchioness  passed  through  the 
little  town  with  her  son,  the  people  gave  her  almost 
an  ovation.  As  the  carriage  approached,  they  came 
out  of  their  houses  to  salute  her.  The  boxes  of  sweet- 
meats distributed  to  the  children  had  won  all  hearts 
even  more  than  her  generous  gift.  She  knew  that  the 
ice  was  now  broken  between  the  Blonay  people  and 
herself  and  she  was  quite  touched  by  their  cordiality. 
Ashamed  of  the  tears  in  her  eyes,  she  said  to  her 
husband,  almost  with  a  touch  of  vexation : 

"  Jacques,  I  believe  that  the  French  climate  acts 
on  my  nerves  horribly.  I  shall  end  by  getting 
sentimental." 

"  Oh,  that  would  be  a  great  pity ! "  answered  the 
Marquis,  in  a  jesting  tone.  "  Do  not  be  afraid,  though. 
We  will  go  to  America  now  and  then,  so  that  you  may 
pick  up  again." 


CHAPTER  X 

The  Duchess  de  Blanzac  had  accepted  the  An- 
guilhons'  invitation  for  the  first  of  October.  She  said 
to  herself,  though,  that  she  would  not  go  to  Blonay, 
but  would  find  some  pretext  for  drawing  out  of  the 
engagement.  She  had  said  this  to  herself,  by  way  of 
easing  her  conscience,  but  she  knew  very  well  that  she 
would  do  nothing  of  the  kind. 

On  the  day  fixed,  therefore,  she  arrived  at  Moulins 
station.  The  Marquis  was  there  to  meet  her,  as  a 
matter  of  course.  They  clasped  hands  warmly,  and, 
with  voices  full  of  feeling,  exchanged  the  usual  com- 
monplace greetings.  Jacques  had  come  in  a  phaeton, 
as  it  was  a  beautiful,  warm  morning. 

As  soon  as  the  Duchess  was  installed  at  his  side 
and  the  horses  had  started  in  the  direction  of  Blonay, 
he  turned  toward  her. 

"  You  are  here,  at  last ! "  he  said,  his  whole  face 
radiant  with  joy.  "  Up  to  yesterday  evening  I  was 
dreading  a  telegram  announcing  that  you  were  obliged 
to  postpone  your  visit." 

"  Why  were  you  expecting  that?" 

"  I  have  no  idea.  But  now  just  own  that  you  were 
tempted  to  disappoint  us." 

"  Tempted,  no —  It  is  true,  though,  that  I  thought 
several  times,  of  going  back  to  Blanzac  to  superintend 
the  restoration  of  the  old  chapel." 

295 


296  AMERICAN  NOBILITY 

"  There,  I  was  sure  of  it !     I  felt  it." 

"  How  odd ! "  exclaimed  Christiane,  amazed  and 
rather  disturbed  in  her  mind  at  this  intuition. 

"  You  know  I  always  have  presentiments.  I  was  so 
tormented  by  the  idea  that  you  would  not  come,  and 
that  you  did  not  want  to  come,  that  I  was  half-in- 
clined to  go  to  Petit-Port  to  fetch  you.  As  you  are 
really  here,  I  will  forgive  you  the  bad  moment  I  have 
had  on  your  account.  Really,  we  should  have  been 
horribly  disappointed  if  you  had  not  come." 

"  I  should  have  to  be  much  wiser  than  I  am  to 
refuse  myself  the  pleasure  of  coming  to  Blonay," 
said  Christiane,  in  a  tone  of  mingled  sadness  and 
bitterness. 

Then,  as  if  she  wanted  to  escape  from  Jacques,  she 
began  to  talk  of  current  topics,  of  the  Deauville  races, 
and  she  also  gave  him  some  scraps  of  gossip.  The 
conversation  was  in  such  direct  contrast  to  their  state 
of  mind  that  they  could  not  keep  it  up  very  long,  and 
there  was  soon  silence  between  them. 

Christiane  had  thrown  back  her  veil.  She  was  look- 
ing straight  before  her,  but  she  felt  that  Jacques  was 
admiring  her,  and  the  pleasure  of  this  brought  the 
colour  into  her  cheeks  and  made  her  nostrils  dilate 
with  pride.  The  purity  of  the  atmosphere,  the  beauty 
of  the  sky  and  valley,  the  speed  at  which  they  were 
driving,  accompanied  by  the  rhythmic  sound  of  the 
thoroughbreds'  tread,  all  this,  together  with  the  pre- 
sence of  the  man  she  loved,  gave  the  Duchess  a  deli- 
cious sense  of  well-being,  a  kind  of  intoxication.  She 
would  have  liked  to  go  on  thus  to  the  end  of  the  world 
— to  death  even. 

"  Here  we  are  at  Blonay ! "  exclaimed  the  Marquis, 
suddenly. 


AMERICAN  NOBILITY  297 

These  words  made  Christiane  start,  and  the  sight  of 
the  American  flag  gave  her  a  pang  at  her  heart. 

"  Superb ! "  she  said,  gazing  with  admiration  at  the 
chd,teau,  the  massive  structure  and  beautiful  outlines 
of  which  stood  out  clearly  against  the  horizon. 

"  And  do  you  mean  to  say  that  a  bourgeois  had  dared 
to  buy  that?  " 

"  Alas,  yes." 

"  Ah,  I  can  understand  now  the  grief  you  must  have 
felt  when  such  a  home  was  sold." 

"  Grief ! "  repeated  Jacques.  "  It  was  simply  heart- 
rending, and  the  agony  of  it  has  left  a  sort  of  scar 
within  me.  When  I  saw  Blonay  once  more,  I  opened 
my  arms  to  it,  like  a  child,  and  I  kissed  its  old  stones." 

"  I  understand  perfectly,"  murmured  the  Duchess. 
"  All  is  well,  though,  that  ends  well,"  she  added.  "  It 
seems  that  novelists  have  a  special  liking  for  some  of 
their  characters  and  they  let  them  suffer  as  little  as 
possible  and  do  not  kill  them  if  they  can  help  it. 
Providence  seems  to  have  a  special  tenderness  for  you, 
in  the  same  way.  Not  only  you  were  not  allowed  to 
go  and  die  in  Africa,  but  more  has  been  given  back 
to  you  than  was  taken  away." 

"  Yes,  that  is  true,  and  I  am  deeply  grateful  to 
Providence.  Look,  I  cannot  imagine  anything  more 
striking  than  the  sight  of  the  American  flag  on  this 
castle,  the  foundations  of  which  date  back  to  feudal 
times.  It  surprises  me  to  see  it  there  every  time  I 
look  at  it.  Just  think  what  a  wonderful  chain  of 
circumstances  it  needed,  in  order  to  bring  it  there. 
We  do  not  study  the  history  of  things  enough;  it  is 
quite  as  curious  as  the  history  of  people.  That  flag 
marks,  perhaps,  the  beginning  of  an  evolution.  I  had 
it  placed  beside  ours  for  the  sake  of  pleasing  Annie. 


298  AMERICAN  NOBILITY 

Then,  too,  I  certainly  owed  it  to  America,"  added  the 
Marquis,  with  the  little  ironical  smile  he  always  had 
when  he  made  any  allusion  to  his  marriage. 

Christiane  did  not  make  any  reply.  A  few  minutes 
later,  the  phaeton  drove  through  the  courtyard  and 
round  the  drive  to  the  stone  steps  of  the  house.  The 
dowager  Marchioness,  Annie,  Count  and  Countess  de 
Froissy  and  several  other  persons  were  there  awaiting 
them. 

The  Duchess  was  greeted  with  cheers. 

"  How  do  you  do,  little  Mamma  ?  "  she  asked,  kissing 
Annie. 

"  I  am  so  glad  to  see  you  again,"  replied  her  hostess, 
with  an  accent  of  sincerity  that  touched  Madame  de 
Blanzac. 

When  all  the  greetings  were  over,  Annie  took  her 
guest  away  to  show  her  the  rooms  she  had  arranged 
for  her  with  special  care. 

"  And  now,  you  must  show  me  your  son  and  heir," 
said  Christiane,  taking  off  her  hat  and  coat. 

"Now,  at  once?" 

"  Now,  at  once." 

Annie  rang  and  asked  for  the  baby  to  be  brought  in. 

"  It  is  fortunate  that  your  first  child  should  be  a 
son." 

"  Oh,  if  I  had  had  a  daughter,  I  should  never  have 
dared  to  show  my  face  again,"  answered  the  young 
mother. 

The  English  nurse  arrived,  carrying  a  little  bundle 
of  muslin,  lace,  and  ribbons,  from  which  a  tiny  fluffy 
head  emerged. 

"  Here  is  my  little  masterpiece,"  said  Annie,  placing 
the  sleeping  baby  on  the  Duchess's  lap. 

Christiane    was    deeply    affected    by    the    sight    of 


AMERICAN  NOBILITY  299 

Jacques'  child.  She  put  her  arm  round  it,  in  a  timid, 
awkward  way  and  then,  with  her  eyes  dim  with  tears, 
she  kissed  the  soft,  fair  hair,  the  eyelids  fringed  with 
dark  lashes  and  the  little,  fresh  mouth,  with  lingering 
kisses. 

"  He  is  very  beautiful,"  she  said,  in  an  unsteady 
voice. 

"  Yes,  is  he  not  ?  He  does  me  credit,  for  I  am 
nursing  him." 

These  words  caused  the  Duchess  sudden  joy,  and  the 
shame  she  felt  at  herself  made  the  colour  come  into 
her  face. 

"  And  your  husband  allows  you  to  nurse  him?  " 

"  Allows  me  ?  Why,  he  was  very  glad  indeed.  He 
thanks  me  again  and  again,  every  day.  He  declares 
that  he  kisses  his  child  with  all  the  more  pleasure, 
because  he  knows  that  only  hie  and  I — in  fact,  a 
lot  of  French  nonsense,"  said  Annie  breaking  off  and 
colouring  slightly.  "  He  did  not  ask  me  to  nurse 
Baby.  I  wanted  to  myself.  The  little  rogue  deprives 
me  of  all  kinds  of  pleasure,  but  I  shall  never  regret  it." 

Madame  de  Blanzac  kissed  the  child  again,  with  a 
lingering  caress. 

"  He  smells  so  good." 

"  I  should  think  so;  his  clothes  are  all  scented  with 
Iris  de  Florence/' 

"  No,  I  do  not  mean  that,  he  is  all  milk  and  honey," 
explained  the  Duchess,  sniffing  the  child  as  though  he 
were  a  flower. 

"  That  is  just  what  Jacques  says.  What  a  lot  of 
imagination  you  all  have!"  added  Annie,  rather 
jeeringly. 

She  then  took  the  baby  up  again  gently  and  sent  him 
awav  with  his  nurse. 


300  AMERICAN  NOBILITY 

"  T  hope  I  do  not  look  too  much  like  a  nurse,"  she 
said. 

"Like  a  nurse?  You  look  much  younger  than  last 
year." 

"  So  much  the  better." 

Tea  was  then  brought  for  the  Duchess,  and  Annie 
poured  it  for  her.  They  talked  about  all  that  had 
happened  since  they  had  last  met. 

"  And  so  you  like  Blonay?  "  asked  Christiane. 

"  I  love  it.  It  is  a  dear  old  place.  I  felt  at  home 
here  from  the  very  day  I  arrived.  Neither  its  size  nor 
its  severe  style  alarmed  me.  It  was  rather  strange, 
for  I  had  never  seen  a  chateau  before.  There  is  one 
thing  that  seems  terribly  difficult,  though,  and  that  is 
my  rdle  of  lady  of  the  manor.  I  do  not  know  how  I 
shall  get  on.  I  am  determined  to  do  my  best,  though. 
The  house  is  not  quite  finished  yet,  so  you  must  make 
allowances.  We  shall  have  several  of  your  friends; 
the  Keradieus  are  coming  back,  and  Monsieur  de  Nozay 
and  Monsieur  de  Challans  are  to  be  here  to-morrow." 

"  I  am  glad  you  have  invited  Louis.  It  will  make 
up  to  him  for  not  going  to  Deauville  this  summer." 

Annie  rose. 

"  I  hope  you  will  not  be  bored,"  she  said  smiling, 
"  and  that  you  will  like  Blonay.  I  am  going  to  leave 
you  now,  as  you  must  want  to  rest.  You  have  two 
good  hours  before  luncheon,  which  will  be  at  half-past 
one.    Au  revoir" 


CHAPTER  XI 

Thb  invitations  to  Blonay,  this  year,  were  neces- 
sarily limited  in  number.  The  Marquis  had  en- 
deavoured to  make  up  by  the  quality  of  his  guests. 
In  order  to  have  a  right  proportion  of  youth,  gaiety, 
and  intelligence,  he  had  weighed  things  over,  and  tried 
to  have  congenial  spirits.  He  had  discussed  the  vari- 
ous pros  and  cons  of  suggested  visitors.  Annie,  who 
was  present  during  this  little  work  of  selection,  ex- 
claimed, in  a  tone  of  distress :  "  How  complicated 
everything  is  in  Europe  and  how  particular  you  are ! " 
Jacques  wanted  this  first  assembly  of  guests,  destined 
to  arouse  the  echoes  of  Blonay,  to  be  both  a  friendly 
and  brilliant  one.  He  had  invited  his  nearest  relatives 
and  his  most  faithful  and  agreeable  friends.  It  seemed 
as  though  the  old  chMeau  had  been  aroused  by  a 
magician's  wand,  for  it  now  teemed  with  life,  from 
base  to  summit.  Up  and  down  the  main  staircase,  out 
on  the  terraces,  and  in  the  avenues  of  the  park,  women's 
graceful  figures  were  to  be  seen.  In  the  wide  court- 
yard, there  were  joyful  departures  for  the  chase  and 
triumphal  returns,  whilst,  in  the  evenings,  music, 
dance  tunes,  beautiful  voices,  and  gay  conversation 
filled  the  old  house  with  harmony  and  gaiety. 

Annie  had  never  confessed  to  any  one,  not  even  to 
her  husband,  how  much  she  had  dreaded  her  duties  as 
hostess.    The  idea  of  having  to  receive  people  she  did 

301 


302  AMERICAN  NOBILITY 

not  know  well,  foreigners,  too,  who  would  criticise  her 
American  ways,  had  made  her  feel  very  nervous.  If 
she  should  not  succeed  in  making  things  go  and  theiv 
guests  should  find  Blonay  dull,  then  Jacques  would 
be  vexed  and  disappointed.  It  was  this  that  she  really 
feared  more  than  anything  else. 

After  the  first  five  or  six  days,  she  was  able  to 
breathe  freely  again.  Her  guests  were  all  thoroughly 
enjoying  themselves;  there  was  no  doubt  about  that. 
The  expression  on  the  Duchess's  face  quite  satisfied 
Annie  on  that  score,  for  she  had  never  seen  her  look 
so  animated  and  she  had  never  seen  her  so  brilliant. 
She  did  not  notice  how  feverish  and  fitful  her  friend's 
gaiety  was,  and  she  took  for  a  sign  of  enjoyment  that 
radiance  which  love  diffuses  over  the  human  face. 

When  Christiane  had  met  the  Marquis  again  after 
a  separation  of  four  months,  she  had  felt,  intuitively, 
that  he  was  restored  to  her.  She  had  had  the  impres- 
sion of  a  barrier  having  given  way,  of  a  union  rather 
than  a  reunion.  She  did  not  seek  to  know  by  what 
charm,  or  by  what  miracle,  communication  had  once 
more  been  set  up  between  them.  All  that  she  knew 
was  that  she  was  thoroughly  happy.  The  presence  of 
Jacques  created  for  her  an  atmosphere  of  Paradise, 
and  the  certainty  of  having  reconquered  him  put  an 
expression  of  triumphant  joy  into  her  eyes. 

From  the  time  that  he  was  once  settled  at  Blonay, 
Jacques  d'Anguilhon  had  begun  to  think  of  the 
Duchess's  approaching  visit.  He  was  impatient  to  show 
her  his  home,  the  home  which  revealed  so  glorious  a 
past,  and  he  rejoiced  at  the  thought  of  doing  the 
honours  of  it.  His  wish  to  see  her  again  was  in- 
creased by  a  touch  of  vanity  rather  than  anything 
else,     Then,  Annie,  who  had  kept  up  a  regular  corre- 


AMERICAN  NOBILITY  303 

spondence  with  Christiane,  unfortunately  gave  him  hei* 
letters  to  read.  He  took  them  to  his  own  rooms  and 
they  produced  a  strange  effect  on  his  imagination. 
Their  brilliant  and  original  style,  their  subtle  perfume, 
the  large,  elegant,  and  irregular  handwriting  and,  per- 
haps, the  transmission  of  one  of  those  still  unknown 
fluids,  which  are  the  secret  agents  of  Providence,  made 
the  image  of  the  Duchess  stand  out  clearly  in  his  mind. 
He  saw  the  beautiful  outline  of  her  figure,  her  large 
blue  eyes,  the  deeply-marked  corners  of  her  mouth,  and 
all  the  characteristic  traits  that  he  admired  so  much. 
This  vision  of  her  disturbed  his  mind  greatly  and  a 
more  ardent  wish  to  see  her  again  took  possession  of 
him.  He  felt,  all  at  once,  that  he  had  a  hundred  things 
to  tell  her,  she  attracted  him  irresistibly  and,  over 
and  over  again,  he  was  tempted  to  start  off  to  Deau- 
ville,  where  she  then  was.  He  was  seized  with  the 
idea  that  she  might  break  her  promise  and,  as  he  had 
told  her,  he  had  an  intuition  of  her  reluctance.  The 
communication  between  them  had  certainly  been  re- 
established. 

She  came  and  her  presence  was,  for  him,  a  source  of 
exquisite  joy  and  emotion.  He  showed  her  all  the 
nooks  and  corners  of  Blonay.  They  strolled  together 
through  the  long  galleries,  stopping  from  time  to  time 
in  some  window  recess  to  admire  the  mountains  of  the 
Puy-de-D6me,  or  a  fine  sunset.  They  looked  through 
curious  books  together  and  they  turned  over  the 
sketches  and  engravings  in  the  portfolios.  He  told 
her  stories  of  his  childhood  and  youth  which  he  had 
never  thought  of  telling  to  his  wife.  There  was  a 
fair  share  of  vanity  and  frivolity  in  the  composition 
of  this  man  and  of  this  woman  of  the  world,  but  they 
both  had  a  great  deal  of  the  inner  life,  too.    They 


304  AMERICAN  NOBILITY 

frequeDtly  soared  away  to  the  unknown,  reaching 
rather  dangerous  heights  sometimes  and  then,  startled, 
they  would  quickly  return  to  earth  and  would  take 
refuge  in  the  commonplace.  These  ascents,  which  al- 
ways had  a  disturbing  effect  on  them,  had  also  a  great 
charm.  In  their  frequent  conversations,  their  thoughts 
and  ideas  met  and  each  one  left,  in  the  other  one's 
soul,  some  fragment  of  him  or  herself.  Like  all 
mortals  here  below,  they  were  working  out  their 
destinies. 

The  Duchess  was  an  intellectual  woman  of  the  sen- 
sual type.  With  her,  love  mounted  from  the  senses  to 
the  heart.  With  women  of  another  type,  it  descends 
from  the  heart  to  the  senses.  She  would  never  have 
been  able  to  love  a  man  of  an  inferior  race.  Jacques 
had  the  same  qualities  as  the  Duke  de  Blanzac  and 
he  was,  comparatively,  a  young  man.  Now  that 
Christiane  saw  him  with  this  superb  setting  of  Blonay 
to  show  off  his  personality,  and  with  all  the  authority 
and  prestige  of  a  grand  seigneur,  he  seemed  to  her  a 
veritable  king  among  men,  and  his  image  took  pos- 
session of  her,  body  and  soul.  She  almost  forgot  that 
he  belonged  to  another.  The  difference  of  nationality 
put  so  great  a  distance  between  the  Marquis  and  his 
wife,  that  she  could  not  think  of  them  as  married. 
She  felt  grateful  to  Annie  for  being  so  silent  about 
her  happiness  and  for  not  showing  her  claims  on  her 
husband.  This  made  her  own  suffering  more  bearable, 
so  that  the  friendship  she  felt  for  Jacques'  wife  was 
quite  sincere. 

Christiane  quite  realised  the  danger  of  the  intimacy 
which  had  sprung  up  between  herself  and  the  Marquis, 
but  she  braved  it  and  even  delighted  in  it.  Jacques 
was  unconscious  of  it.    He  felt  so  exceedingly  happy 


AMERICAN  NOBILITY  305 

that,  at  times,  he  was  alarmed  and  said  to  himself 
that  it  could  not  possibly  last.  It  was,  of  course,  not 
destined  to  last.  When  human  happiness  reaches  a 
certain  point,  it  either  vanishes  suddenly,  or  com- 
mences slowly  to  decrease.  That  of  the  Marquis 
d'Anguilhon  had  reached  this  point. 

One  morning,  just  before  luncheon,  Jacques  was 
returning  home  with  Henri  de  Keradieu.  As  they 
turned  the  bend  of  the  avenue  and  came  within 
view  of  the  terrace,  they  saw  Madame  de  Blan- 
zac  and  the  Count  de  Challans  pacing  up  and 
down  it. 

Baron  de  Keradieu  stopped  short  and,  looking  at 
them,  said  to  Jacques : 

"  I  fancy  that  will  end  by  marriage." 

These  simple  words,  apparently  so  unimportant,  were 
destined  to  have  enormous  consequences.  They  seemed 
to  strike  Jacques'  heart  and  brain  simultaneously, 

"A  marriage!"  he  repeated,  looking  at  the  two 
figures.     "The  Duchess  and  Challans?     Impossible!" 

"Why?  She  has  been  trying  to  play  the  sister  to 
that  fine-looking  fellow,  and  it  is  quite  possible  that 
she  has  fallen  in  love  with  him." 

"  But  she  is  five  years  older  than  he  is.  It  would 
be  a  ridiculous  marriage!" 

"  Oh,  no ;  Louis  looks  older  than  he  is  and  he  is 
much  more  serious  than  people  think,  and  absolutely 
straightforward.  As  to  her,  she  will  always  look  the 
age  she  wants  to  look.  I  assure  you  that  if  she  should 
tell  me  of  her  engagement,  I  should  congratulate  her 
heartily." 

"  Well,  I  should  not,"  said  the  Marquis,  drily. 

The  two  men  continued  their  walk  in  silence.  On 
entering  the  hall,  Jacques  looked  at  his  watch. 


306  AMERICAN  NOBILITY 

"  We  have  still  an  hour  before  luncheon,"  he  said. 
"  I  must  leave  you,  as  I  have  some  letters  to  write." 

Under  this  pretext,  he  went  up  to  his  room.  Feel- 
ing the  need  of  being  quite  alone  with  himself,  he 
turned  the  key  of  the  door,  instinctively,  and  then 
began  pacing  up  and  down,  as  he  always  did  when 
under  the  influence  of  some  mental  agitation.  The 
idea  of  the  Duchess  caring  for  Louis  de  Challans,  in 
that  way,  was  absurd,  he  said  to  himself.  Why,  he 
was  only  thirteen  years  of  age  when  she  was  eighteen. 
She  had  known  him  from  the  time  he  wore  his  college 
coat  and  cap,  so  that  he  would  not  have  a  shadow  of 
prestige  for  her.  There  was  only  one  thing,  though. 
She  had  married  a  man  much  older  than  herself.  It 
was  just  possible  now  that  she  might  be  tempted  by 
the  fact  that  Louis  was  young.  She  always  was  a 
woman  who  went  in  for  extremes.  This  marriage 
would  enable  her  to  keep  her  title,  her  wealth,  her 
Blanzac  kingdom  as  it  were,  and  all  the  things  that 
were  her  pride  and  her  very  life.  Yes,  it  was  possible 
and  even  probable.  What  was  it  to  him  after  all? 
She  was  quite  free  and  it  ought  not  to  affect  him  at 
all.  And  yet  it  did  affect  him  and  the  idea  of  it  was 
atrociously  painful  to  him.  And — as  usually  happens 
— jealousy  caused  the  love  within  him  to  make  itself 
manifest. 

Overcome  by  the  shock  of  this  discovery,  he  sank 
down  into  an  armchair,  clenching  its  two  arms  nerv- 
ously. "V^Tiy,  of  course  he  loved  her  and  he  always  had 
loved  her.  In  Jacques'  suddenly-enlightened  mind,  a 
development  of  pictures,  recollections,  and  sensations 
took  place,  similar  to  photographic  development. 
Christiane  Soria  appeared  before  him  with  her  short 
frock,  her  slender  limbs,  and  her  head  always  erect. 


AMERICAN  NOBILITY  307 

He  remembered  his  delight  iu  the  old  days  when  he 
happened  to  meet  her  and  she  deigned  to  bow  gra- 
ciously. Then,  too,  how  he  had  liked  that  dancing- 
class  to  which  she  belonged!  After  all  these  long 
years,  he  still  felt  the  delightful  sensation  he  had  then 
felt,  when  the  girlish  form  he  held  drew  itself  up  as 
though  to  escape  him.  Curiously  enough,  he  could  see 
again  the  thick  plait  of  tawny  hair  hanging  down  her 
back.  He  remembered  how  it  ended  in  a  frizzy  tuft 
which  glinted  prettily  when  it  caught  the  light.  That 
plait  used  to  fascinate  him.  It  looked  very  heavy  and 
he  had  been  curious  to  know  its  weight.  One  Sunday, 
when  the  little  girl  was  just  in  front  of  him  in  the 
aisle  at  St.  Clotilde's,  he  had  not  been  able  to  resist 
the  temptation  of  touching  the  silky  hair.  He  had 
just  lifted  it,  very  lightly,  with  the  tips  of  his  fingers, 
but  not  lightly  enough  for  Christiane  not  to  have  felt 
it.  She  had  turned  round  quickly,  like  a  little  Fury, 
and  had  given  him  a  withering  glance.  Was  he  not, 
even  then,  in  love  with  her?  Were  not  their  destinies 
already  united?  And  then  the  indignation  and  anger 
he  had  felt  on  her  wedding-day,  when  he  had  seen  her 
coming  down  the  nave  of  St.  Clotilde's  on  the  arm  of 
the  Duke  de  Blanzac!    Was  not  that  jealousy? 

All  the  women  he  had  cared  for  since  had  reminded 
him  more  or  less  of  Christiane.  He  had  always  been 
looking  for  her  in  the  others.  Jacques  remembered 
how  much  he  had  disliked  asking  the  Duchess  to 
help  him  with  his  marriage.  His  marriage!  At  the 
thought  of  this,  he  coloured  violently,  rose,  and  began 
once  more  to  pace  up  and  down  the  room.  Had  he 
not  cared  for  Annie  then? 

"  Yes,"  he  said  to  himself,  "  he  had  cared  for  her, 
very  sincerely,  but  the  feeling  he  had  for  her  had  not 


308  AMERICAN  NOBILITY 

been  able  to  efface  his  first  impressions  and  had  not 
prevented  his  love  for  the  Duchess  from  developing 
and  making  itself  manifest.  This  then  was  what  his 
suflFering  was  to  be.  This  was  the  suffering  by  which 
he  was  to  pay  for  the  fortune  that  had  been  restored 
to  him." 

"  If  only  Ghristiane  would  not  marry  again !  He 
should  never  call  her  his  and  he  would  never  breathe 
a  word  of  love  to  her.  He  would  be  heroic.  But  to 
see  her,  a  second  time,  come  away  from  the  altar  on 
another  man's  arm  would  be  more  than  he  could  bear." 

A  ray  of  hope  flashed  through  Jacques'  mind.  Henri 
was  perhaps  mistaken.  It  was  true  that  Louis  de 
Challans  was  frequently  at  Christiane's  and  that  she 
always  invited  him  to  Deauville  and  to  BMnzac.  She 
was  greatly  interested  in  his  future  and  showed  a 
marked  liking  for  him.  But  then,  he  was  her  hus- 
band's heir,  the  future  head  of  the  Blanzac  family. 
Was  she  not  bound  to  watch  over  him  and  to  help 
him  to  prepare  for  the  part  he  had  to  play  in  the 
world?  If  she  really  cared  for  Louis,  would  Jacques 
not  have  felt  it  instinctively?  Would  not  Guy  de 
Nozay  also  have  divined  it? 

"  Ah,  I  was  too  happy ! "  murmured  the  Marquis, 
through  his  clenched  teeth.  "  It  could  not  last,  of 
course." 

From  that  moment,  Jacques  had  no  more  tran- 
quillity. The  delightful  peacefulness  he  had  been  en- 
joying for  a  whole  year  was  over  for  ever.  He  eagerly 
endeavoured  to  find  out  the  truth  about  Christiane's 
feelings  for  Louis  de  Challans.  This  was  by  no  means 
easy.  It  may  have  been  that  the  Duchess  de  Blanzac 
felt  that  Guy  de  Nozay's  suspicions  were  aroused  and 
that  she  wanted  to  put  him  off  the  scent,  or  it  may 


AMERICAN  NOBILITY  309 

have  beeu  that  she  was  endeavouring  to  keep  herself 
from  thinking  so  much  about  Jacques,  but  certain 
it  is  that  she  was  with  Louis  a  great  deal.  He  amused 
and  interested  her,  for  he  was  really  young  at  heart, 
full  of  enthusiasm  and  illusions.  Then,  too,  she  was 
not  indifferent  to  the  sincere  admiration  he  had  for 
her.  At  times,  her  way  of  acting  seemed  quite  to 
justify  Monsieur  de  Keradieu's  surmises,  and  then 
Jacques  suffered  cruelly.  He  was  often  tempted  to 
question  Christiane,  but  he  did  not  dare.  At  such 
times,  he  would  look  at  her  with  an  expression  in  his 
eyes  that  was  most  embarrassing  for  her.  It  was  as 
though  he  were  trying  to  read  the  very  depths  of  her 
soul.  W^hen  their  eyes  met  they  both  experienced  a 
sort  of  shock,  and  it  was  only  a  wonder  that  they  did 
not  betray  themselves. 

For  some  time,  Christiane  had  felt  that  Jacques 
loved  her.  The  conviction  of  this  gave  her  such  hap- 
piness that  she  desired  nothing  more.  She  was  not 
long  in  discovering  that  Jacques  was  conscious  of  his 
love  for  her.  At  first,  she  was  rather  alarmed,  but  she 
consoled  herself  with  the  thought  that  the  marriage 
she  had  helped  him  to  make  put  such  a  barrier  between 
them  that  neither  of  them  would  think  of  breaking 
through  it. 

The  day  before  her  departure,  Madame  de  Blanzac 
was  coming  down  the  main  staircase,  talking  gaily  to 
the  Viscount  de  Nozay.  Suddenly  she  uttered  a  cry. 
Through  the  open  door  of  the  hall,  she  had  just  caught 
sight  of  two  of  the  stable  men,  carrying  the  Marquis 
stretched  out  on  one  of  the  garden  seats.  His  eyes 
were  closed  and  he  was  pale,  as  though  mortally 
wounded.  Christiane  was  at  his  side  just  as  the  men 
were  setting  the  chair  down. 


310  AMERICAN  NOBILITY 

"An  accident?"  asked  Guy,  in  an  agitated  tone  of 
voice. 

Jacques  opened  his  eyes  and  tried  to  smile. 

"  A  kick  from  a  horse.     I  fancy  my  knee  is  broken." 

"  Are  you  suffering  much?  "  asked  the  Duchess,  with 
a  look  full  of  sympathy  and  an  intonation  of  infinite 
tenderness. 

"  Atrociously." 

A  spasm  of  pain  contorted  his  features  as  he  spoke. 

"  Some  brandy,  quick !  "  ordered  the  Viscount. 

As  soon  as  Jacques  had  revived  a  little  after  the 
brandy,  he  said: 

"  My  Mother  and  Annie  should  be  told,  so  that  they 
may  not  be  suddenly  alarmed." 

"  I  will  tell  them,"  said  the  Duchess,  at  once. 

She  went  away,  with  a  pang  at  her  heart  and  her 
limbs  trembling,  feeling  herself  the  suffering  of  the 
man  she  loved. 

The  doctor,  who  was  fortunately  at  home,  pro- 
nounced that  the  knee  was  not  fractured.  He  ordered 
ice  and  bandaged  it,  gave  an  injection  of  morphia,  and 
left  everyone  very  much  comforted  as  to  the  con- 
sequences of  the  accident. 

As  soon  as  she  had  recovered  from  her  emotion, 
Christiane  was  sure  that  she  had  betrayed  herself. 
At  the  bare  idea  that  the  Viscount  de  Nozay,  and  per- 
haps Jacques,  had  guessed  her  secret,  her  face  flushed 
crimson.  A  moment  later,  she  lifted  her  head  again 
proudly,  for  she  felt  capable  of  putting  both  Guy  and 
Jacques  off  the  scent. 

The  patient  suffered  a  great  deal  during  the  night. 
He  was  very  feverish,  too,  and  even  slightly  delirious 
at  times.  In  his  quiet  moments,  he  recalled  the 
Duchess's  cry  and  the  look  of  anguish  he  had  seen  in 


AMERICAN  NOBILITY  311 

her  eyes.  These  things,  registered  as  they  were  in  his 
brain  and  in  his  very  soul,  produced  a  joy  which 
dominated  his  physical  pain. 

The  next  day,  he  was  carried  into  his  study  in  order 
to  wish  Christiane  good-bye.  She  was  in  travelling 
costume  and  quite  ready  to  start. 

"  I  frightened  you,"  he  said,  looking  at  her  eagerly 
and  endeavouring  to  find  some  sign  of  emotion  on  her 
face. 

"  Frightened  me  ?  "  she  repeated.  "  I  should  just 
think  you  did.  If  I  had  been  a  weak  woman,  I  should 
have  fainted.  Only  imagine  my  fright,  I  thought  you 
were  dead." 

Then,  all  in  the  same  breath,  Christiane  expressed 
her  regret  at  the  accident,  adding  that  she  was  glad 
to  see  he  was  better  before  leaving.  She  went  on  to 
say  how  much  she  had  enjoyed  her  visit,  and  all  this 
in  the  most  easy  and  natural  way  imaginable. 

Guy  de  Nozay,  who  was  present,  could  not  help  look- 
ing at  her  with  admiration. 

"  She  is  really  very  clever,  very  clever  indeed,"  he 
said  to  himself.     "  It  is  remarkably  well  acted." 

When  Jacques  heard  the  sound  of  the  carriage 
wheels,  which  were  taking  the  Duchess  away,  he  put 
his  head  back  on  the  pillow  and  closed  his  eyes. 

"  How  I  love  her !  "  he  murmured  to  himself. 

The  Marquis  did  not  get  up  again  as  soon  as  was 
expected.  For  about  a  fortnight  he  had  to  lie  still, 
and  for  the  next  three  weeks  he  walked  with  difficulty. 

Christiane's  absence  was  a  great  trouble  to  him. 
Involuntarily,  when  the  door  opened,  he  expected  to 
see  her  appear.  The  house  with  his  wife,  his  mother, 
and  his  friends,  seemed  empty,  horribly  empty.  He 
realised  that  poverty  was  not  the  worst  kind  of  suffer- 


312  AMERICAN  NOBILITY 

ing.  He  had  never  believed  this  until  now.  In  his 
present  state  of  mind,  nothing  could  have  been  worse 
for  him  than  the  inactivity  to  which  he  was  doomed. 
It  gave  him  time  and  opportunity  for  long  reveries 
and  for  searching  his  memory  for  impressions  that 
were  registered  there.  At  times,  a  light  burst  forth 
from  among  the  treasures  of  his  recollections,  and  the 
light  dazzled  him.  Madame  de  Blanzac  loved  him. 
He  would  not  have  dared  say  so,  in  words,  even  to 
himself,  but  he  felt  it.  His  heart,  at  such  times,  would 
beat  more  quickly,  and  he  would  stretch  out  his  arms, 
instinctively,  towards  his  vision  and  murmur,  in  a  low 
voice,  Christiane's  name.  It  gave  him  the  most  deli- 
cious joy  to  utter  that  name  now. 


CHAPTER  XII 

After  the  Christmas  festivities,  the  Marquis  and 
Marchioness  left  for  Cannes. 

The  Duchess  had  asked  them  to  stop  at  Blanzac  for 
a  few  days,  on  the  way.  Jacques  declined,  under  the 
pretext  of  the  child. 

Annie  was  delighted  to  be  back  again  in  the  beautiful 
ChMeau  de  St.  Michel,  which  had  been  the  first  halt- 
ing-place of  her  wedding  trip.  It  seemed  droll  to  be 
returning  there  with  a  baby. 

The  Marquis  thought  regretfully  of  the  unmixed 
happiness  he  had  felt,  only  the  year  before,  in  this 
place.  The  memories  of  the  honeymoon  and  the  sight 
of  his  healthy  and  handsome  little  son  drove  the  vision 
of  Christiane  from  his  mind  for  a  time,  but  it  quickly 
came  back  again,  more  clearly  and  more  brilliant  than 
ever,  effacing  everything  else. 

The  Marquis  made  very  real  efforts  to  kill  this  love, 
which  rendered  him  liable  to  commit  some  infamy.  He 
clung  to  Annie,  trying  by  means  of  familiar  conversa- 
tions, and  even  by  certain  confidences,  to  get  into 
closer  communion  with  her.  This  attempt  had  the 
disastrous  result  of  showing  him  how  little  his  wife 
and  he  really  had  in  common.  He  was  both  surprised 
and  discouraged. 

At  his  own  request,  Annie  talked  to  him  in  English. 
313 


314  AMERICAN  NOBILITY 

This  seemed  to  give  her  a  special  charm  and  a  certain 
piquancy,  but,  on  the  other  hand,  it  made  her  all 
the  more  foreign  to  him.  He  was  always  thinking, 
and  frequently  quite  erroneously,  that  she  did  not 
understand  him  and  that  she  could  not  understand 
him.  The  Marquis  needed  to  be  amused  and  inter- 
ested. Annie  chattered  a  great  deal,  but  she  could 
not  talk.  She  studied  music  and  played  correctly,  but 
her  hard  and  brilliant  execution  gave  Jacques  no 
pleasure.  She  had  no  idea  of  the  art  of  making  her- 
self desired,  of  giving  value  to  her  caresses.  Conjugal 
flirtation,  peculiar,  perhaps,  only  to  the  Frenchwoman, 
would  have  seemed  ridiculous  to  her.  For  her  own 
dignity's  sake,  she  would  not  have  taken  a  single  step 
for  the  sake  of  keeping  her  husband  faithful  to  her. 
Faithfulness  was  a  question  of  loyalty  and  honour,  in 
her  opinion.  She  had  married  a  gentleman  and  she 
took  it  for  granted  that  he  was  incapable  of  deceiving 
her.  Before  her  marriage,  she  had  been  more  afraid 
of  this  French  inconstancy,  with  which  people  had 
tried  to  terrify  her,  than  of  anything  else.  Now,  curi- 
ously enough,  she  no  longer  feared  it.  From  time  to 
time,  she  had  certainly  had  an  intuition  that  she  was 
not  enough  for  Jacques,  but  he  had  always  been  able 
to  reassure  her.  She  had  never  been  so  tranquil  and 
so  sure  as  now,  when,  through  nursing  her  child,  she 
was  doubly  disarmed. 

When  a  sick  man  knows  the  nature  of  the  disease 
from  which  he  is  suffering,  he  is,  in  spite  of  himself, 
constantly  thinking  about  it,  and  this  very  preoccupa- 
tion aggravates  the  disease.  Ever  since  Jacques  had 
realised  that  he  loved  Madame  de  Blanzac,  he  had  not 
been  able  to  forget  her  for  a  single  instant.  This 
constant  thought  increased  his  love  for  her  and  every 


AMERICAN  NOBILITY  315 

eflfort  he  made  to  drive  her  image  from  his  heart  only 
fixed  it  more  deeply  there. 

The  Duchess  usually  spent  February  and  March  at 
Cannes,  She  decided  this  year  to  go  to  Pau.  The 
Marquis  thought  he  was  sincerely  dreading  her  arrival, 
but  he  was  intensely  disappointed  when  she  did  not 
come,  although  he  tried  to  persuade  himself  that  it 
was  all  for  the  best.  He  wondered  why  she  should 
have  gone  to  Pau,  as  he  knew  she  detested  the  place. 
The  idea  that  she  cared  for  him  and  that  she  wanted 
to  avoid  him  took  possession  of  him.  He  remembered 
her  cry  when  she  had  thought  him  dead.  It  was  not 
a  nervous  woman's  cry,  but  that  of  a  woman  who 
sees  a  loved  one  suddenly  taken  away  from  her.  Why 
should  she  not  love  him,  he  asked  himself.  It  was  very 
certain  that  he  loved  her.  Excited  with  all  these  ideas, 
he  was  seized  with  a  wild  desire  to  rush  off  to  Pau  and 
to  see  Madame  de  Blanzac,  without  being  seen  himself ; 
so  that  he  might  read  her  face.  In  the  very  midst  of 
the  emotion  caused  by  this  idea,  he  realised  the  danger 
of  their  love,  if  she  really  cared  for  him.  He  resolved 
to  put  no  obstacles  whatever  in  the  way  of  the  visit 
to  America,  and  he  even  proposed  to  his  wife  that  they 
should  start  towards  the  end  of  April.  Annie  was  de- 
lighted, as  she  had  been  afraid  that  the  child  might 
prevent  the  plan  from  being  carried  out.  She  wrote 
at  once  to  her  mother  and  to  Clara,  announcing  their 
approaching  departure,  but  Clara  replied  that  she 
should  not  believe  it  until  she  saw  them  land  in 
New  York. 

The  Duchess  did  not  stay  long  in  the  Pyrenees,  and 
on  the  eighth  of  March  she  was  back  in  Paris.  When 
Jacques  knew  that  she  was  in  the  Rue  de  Varenne, 
he  was  seized  with  a  sort  of  restlessness,  vague  at  first, 


316  AMERICAN  NOBILITY 

but  which  became  quite  painful.  At  the  hour  when 
he  knew  that  her  gates  would  be  open  for  her  daily 
reception,  he  could  not  keep  still  and  was  like  a  captive 
animal,  fretted  by  his  chain. 

Madame  de  Blanzac  wrote  regularly  to  Annie.  In 
one  of  her  letters,  she  told  her  that  Louis  de  Challans 
had  been  transferred  to  a  regiment  stationed  at 
Versailles. 

"  I  am  glad  to  have  him  near  Paris,"  she  added. 
"  Beside  the  fact  that  he  is  one  of  those  on  whom  I 
can  absolutely  rely,  he  is  so  delightfully  young  always." 

This  piece  of  news,  together  with  the  comment  on 
it,  upset  Jacques  again.  He  said  to  himself  that  he 
was  a  fool  and  an  idiot,  and  that  Henri  de  Keradieu 
had  more  perspicacity.  But  the  certainty  that  Chris- 
tiane  cared  for  him  came  back  to  him  again  and,  in 
the  end,  he  concluded  that  she  was  going  to  marry 
again  in  order  to  avoid  and  forget  him. 

"  It  is  only  women  who  have  such  abominable  ideas !  " 
he  muttered,  through  his  clenched  teeth.  "  She  will 
forget  me  soon  enough  when  she  is  in  the  arms  of 
this  fine  fellow  of  twenty-five,  whom  she  thinks  so 
delightfully  young,"  he  added,  in  an  angry,  ironical 
tone.  Louis  was  just  five  years  younger  than  he  was, 
and  he  was  more  jealous,  at  this  moment,  about  the 
five  years  than  he  would  have  been  of  any  talent  or 
even  genius.  Physical  jealousy,  the  most  painful  and 
blind  of  all  jealousies,  made  him  forget  Christiane's 
refinement  and  her  loftiness  of  soul.  He  was  sup- 
posing her  capable  of  wanting  to  kill  sentiment  by 
sensuality. 

Jacques  felt  a  des|)erate  longing  to  know  the  truth. 
He  could  not  start  for  America  with  these  doubts  tor- 
turing him.    He  would  question  the  Duchess.    He  was 


AMERICAN  NOBILITY  317 

tempted  to  go  to  Paris  by  himself,  but  he  felt  the  need 
of  the  protection  of  his  wife  and  child,  and  so  decided 
to  take  them  with  him.  Under  the  pretext  of  having 
some  business  afifairs  to  arrange  before  leaving  Europe, 
he  shortened  the  time  fixed  for  their  stay  at  the  Chateau 
de  St.  Michel. 


CHAPTER  XIII 

Madame  db  Blanzac  had  been  as  much  disturbed  in 
her  mind  lately  as  the  Marquis  d'Anguilhon.  The 
time  was  not  far  distant  when  their  lives  were  to  be 
blended  together,  and  they  had  already  commenced  to 
feel,  to  suflFer,  and  to  live,  in  unison.  Everything  con- 
tributed to  bring  them  nearer  to  each  other,  even  the 
very  things  which  seemed  more  likely  to  keep  them 
apart.  Christiane  h^  gone  away  to  escape  the  danger, 
and  now  that  she  was  back  in  Paris,  she  had  to  face 
it.  She  had  not  expected  to  see  the  Anguilhons  again 
until  the  beginning  of  April.  When  Annie  wrote  to 
her  that  they  were  returning  to  Paris,  her  intuition 
told  her  that  they  were  coming  back  because  she  was 
there.  As  soon  as  Jacques  arrived,  she  felt  his  pre- 
sence through  walls  and  space,  and  this  presence  acted 
on  her  like  magnetism.  Her  heart  beat  more  quickly, 
her  face  flushed  with  emotion,  and  a  kind  of  inward 
trepidation  prevented  her  from  reading  or  interesting 
herself  in  anything.  Towards  two  o'clock,  she  was 
seized  with  a  sudden,  instinctive  fear.  She  decided 
that  she  would  not  see  Jacques  that  day,  and  she  said 
to  herself  that  she  did  not  want  to  see  him.  She  rang 
the  bell  to  give  orders  that  she  was  not  at  home  that 
afternoon  to  visitors  and,  when  the  footman  appeared, 
she  asked — ^for  a  glass  of  water. 

The  Marquis,  too,  was  under  the  influence  of  an 

318 


AMERICAN  NOBILITY  319 

equally  violent  emotion.  Now  that  he  was  actually 
near  Madame  de  Blanzac,  he  was  afraid  to  question 
her.  He  was  greatly  relieved  to  find  that  Annie  had 
invited  the  Keradieus  to  luncheon  and  to  know  that 
this  fact  would  necessarily  delay  his  visit  a  little.  The 
presence  of  these  friends  did  him  good,  as,  in  talking 
with  them,  he  was  obliged  to  interest  himself  in  other 
subjects  and,  consequently,  became  a  little  more 
calm. 

During  luncheon,  Annie  said  that  she  had  some 
scruples  about  this  journey  to  America,  as  she  rather 
feared  it  for  the  baby. 

"  If  he  were  a  little  Yankee,"  she  added,  "  I  would 
take  him  from  one  end  of  the  world  to  the  other,  but 
I  do  not  know  how  this  little  Franco- American  speci- 
men of  humanity  will  stand  the  change  of  climate. 
I  shall  not  start  without  the  doq^or's  permission." 

On  hearing  these  words,  Jacques  felt  something  very 
much  like  joy. 

When  the  two  men  were  alone  in  the  library,  the 
Marquis  asked  Baron  de  Keradieu  news  of  Louis  de 
Challans. 

"  He  is  very  glad  to  have  left  La  F6re,  of  course. 
We  dined  together,  last  week,  at  Madame  de  Blanzac's." 

"  You  still  think  he  is  going  to  marry  her?" 

"  I  do,  more  than  ever." 

"  Ah,"  said  Jacques,  his  face  hidden  by  the  smoke 
of  his  cigar. 

It  would  have  been  too  painful  to  continue  talking 
on  that  subject,  so  he  said  no  more  about  it.  Jacques 
thought  that  by  going  late  to  call  on  the  Duchess,  he 
would  be  more  likely  to  find  her  alone.  He  was  de- 
termined to  know  the  truth  about  Louis  de  Challans. 
He   promised   himself,   though,   and   mentally  vowed. 


320  AMERICAN  NOBILITY 

that  he  would  ask  nothing  else  and  that  he  would  not 
let  her  guess  his  own  feelings. 

When  Jacques  arrived  at  the  Duchess  de  Blanzac's, 
the  gates  were  just  being  closed,  so  it  was  evident 
that  he  was  the  last  visitor.  The  footman  on  duty 
in  the  hall  showed  him  into  the  red  drawing-room. 
Christiane  had  already  gone  upstairs. 

On  finding  himself  once  more  in  this  room,  which 
he  knew  so  well,  he  was  moved  as  he  had  never  been 
before.  Now  that  he  was  in  love,  his  senses  entered 
into  direct  communion  with  all  the  things  which  be- 
longed to  Christiane  and  which  seemed  to  contain 
something  of  her.  The  faint  perfume  in  the  air  was 
delicious  to  him.  He  looked  at  the  little  sofa,  on 
which  she  always  sat.  The  cushions  had  kept  the 
imprint  of  her  shoulders  and  arms.  There  was  the 
little  desk  at  which  she  sat  when  attending  to  her 
social  affairs,  the  old  harpsichord  on  which  she  accom- 
panied herself  when  she  sang  her  exquisite  little  songs. 
He  had  seen  all  these  things  hundreds  of  times,  but 
he  now  felt  them,  and  they  seemed  sacred  to  him  and 
wonderful.  This  phenomenon,  which  was  wholly  sub- 
jective, as  it  was  produced  by  love  and  so  not  new 
to  him,  surprised  him  as  though  he  now  experienced 
it  all  for  the  first  time.  AH  at  once  he  started.  In 
the  mirror,  above  a  side  table  placed  in  the  corner, 
to  the  right  of  the  French  windows,  he  had  just 
seen  a  little  statue  which  appeared  to  hare  two 
heads. 

"  WTiat  is  it  ?  "  he  exclaimed  and,  on  going  up  to  it, 
he  was  struck  by  the  strangeness  of  the  work  of  art 
he  had  before  him.  It  was  the  statue  of  a  woman,  of 
medium  height,  slenderly  and  delicately  built.  It  was 
not  carved  in  marble,  but  modelled  in  flesh-coloured 


AMERICAN  NOBILITY  321 

wax.  Standing  in  front  of  it,  one  saw  a  lovely,  almost 
childlike  face,  with  a  joyful,  triumphant  expression. 
This  face,  though,  was  only  a  mask,  which  the  woman 
was  holding  up  with  her  hand.  It  was  cleverly  draped 
by  a  veil,  behind  which  was  the  real  face.  The  head 
was  thrown  slightly  back,  the  eyes  were  closed  and 
looked  as  though  they  were  full  of  tears,  the  mouth 
was  rigid,  with  an  expression  of  pain  and  sorrow. 
The  right  hand  was  tightly  clenched  and  was  holding 
the  folds  of  the  garment  over  the  breast.  The  effect 
was  very  striking.  Below,  on  the  rather  high  plinth, 
was  the  word  Addolorata,  and,  on  the  two  sides, 
Baudelaire's  lines: 

Demain,  aprH-demain,  et  tou jours!  comme  nous! 
Elle  pleure,  parce  qu'elle  a  vecu 

Et  parce  qa'elle  vit;  mais,  ce  qu'elle  deplore 
Surtout,  ce  qui  la  fait  fremir  jusqu'aux  genoux, 

C'est  que  demain,  helas!  il  faudra  vivre  encore. 

Jacques  stooped  to  read  the  words  and  he  read  them 
aloud.  On  lifting  his  head  again,  he  saw  the  Duchess 
before  him,  in  the  mirror.  She  looked  taller  and 
thinner  and  strangely  pale.  As  if  hypnotised,  with- 
out moving  a  step  towards  her,  he  watched  her  come 
forward,  in  the  dignified  way  peculiar  to  her.  He  did 
not  turn  until  she  was  at  his  side.  Then,  their  hands, 
their  eyes,  and  their  very  souls  met,  and,  paralysed  by 
their  emotion,  they  stood  still  for  a  few  seconds,  unable 
to  utter  a  word. 

Christiane  was  the  first  to  come  to  herself  again. 
The  quivering  of  her  lij)s  died  away  in  a  smile. 

"  You  were  admiring  my  Addolorata?"  she  said. 

"  Yes,  and  it  gave  me  a  pang  at  my  heart.    That 


322  AMERICAN  NOBILITY 

woman  is  suffering  horribly.  Whose  is  this  master- 
piece?" 

« It  is  by  Ringel." 

"  But  the  idea  was  yours,  I  am  sure  ?  " 

The  Duchess  changed  colour  and  could  not  meet 
Jacques'  eyes. 

"  Oh,  no,"  she  replied,  promptly.  "  About  two  years 
ago,  when  I  was  crossing  the  Tuileries  gardens,  one 
morning,  I  was  suddenly  brought  to  a  standstill  by 
Christolphe's  statue,  The  Mash.  You  have  never  no- 
ticed it  probably.  It  is  a  woman  holding  a  mask,  like 
this  one.  Her  head  is  thrown  back  and  there  is  an 
expression  of  such  heart-rending  grief  on  her  face,  that 
I  felt  the  deepest  pity  and  affection  for  her.  I  should 
have  liked  to  take  the  statue  away  from  that  public 
garden.  It  seemed  to  me  that  she  must  suffer  from  the 
gaze  of  the  crowd.  I  have  been  several  times  to  look 
at  her  again,  for  she  fascinated  me  in  the  strangest 
way.  A  few  days  after  first  noticing  her — ^you  see  how 
things  are  linked  together — I  was  looking  through 
one  of  Baudelaire's  books,  and  I  came  across  some 
lines  which  that  same  statue  had  inspired.  The 
poet's  vision  was  more  ideally  beautiful  than  that 
of  the  sculptor  had  been,  and  I  was  seized  with 
the  wish  to  have  the  poet's  vision.  I  went  to  Ringel, 
for  I  fancied  he  would  be  able  to  reproduce  it  for 
me  better  than  any  one  else.  In  his  works,  there 
is  not  only  a  seeking  after  beauty,  but  an  endeavour 
to  interest  the  soul.  We  worked  together  at  the 
rough  model  and  we  both  had  the  same  idea:  a 
worldly  Addolorata.  We  are  quite  satisfied  with 
our  mask  and  I  only  wish  that  Baudelaire  could  have 
seen  it." 

Jacques   turned   the  statue  sideways  and   stepped 


AMERICAN  NOBILITY  323 

back.  An  expression  of  surprise  came  over  his 
voice. 

"  She  is  like  you,"  he  said,  in  a  low  tone. 

The  Duchess  was  embarrassed  and  made  an  effort  to 
laugh. 

"  That  is  what  Monsieur  de  Nozay  says,"  she  re- 
marked.    "  You  are  the  only  ones  to  notice  it." 

"  Because  we  have  a  more  delicate  perception,  pro- 
bably, than  your  ordinary  friends." 

"  At  any  rate,  if  the  resemblance  does  exist,  which 
I  deny,  it  is  quite  accidental.  I  should  not  have 
posed  for  a  woman  wearing  a  mask.  To  do  so  would 
either  be  a  piece  of  affectation  or  a  confession,  and  I 
am  incapable  of  such  bad  taste." 

"  I  know  that  very  well.  Then,  too,  the  resemblance 
is  almost  imperceptible.  I  feel  it,  rather  than  see  it. 
It  is  more  in  the  general  lines.  If  this  woman  could 
walk,  she  would  move  as  you  do.  She  belongs  to  the 
same  type  of  woman  as  you." 

The  Marquis  ran  his  fingers  lightly  over  the  wonder- 
ful undulations  of  the  Addolorata's  body,  as  he  said 
this. 

Christiane  thrilled  from  head  to  foot,  as  though  she 
felt  the  touch  herself. 

"  The  statue  is  for  my  own  private  study,  which  is 
just  undergoing  a  few  repairs  and  alterations.  I  am 
glad  you  have  seen  it,  though.  Now,  come  and  tell 
me  all  the  news,"  added  the  Duchess,  in  a  firmer  tone, 
leading  the  way  to  the  other  end  of  the  room. 

She  took  her  accustomed  place  on  the  sofa  and 
pointed  to  an  armchair  for  the  Marquis. 

"  How  are  Annie  and  Baby  ?  "  she  asked. 

Jacques  did  not  hear.  The  sight  of  the  woman  wear- 
ing a  mask  had  disturbed  his  mind  strangely.     Not 


324  AMERICAN  NOBILITY 

only  did  he  see  the  physical  likeness,  but,  by  a  sudden 
intuition,  he  had  identified  the  statue  with  its  original. 
He  was  sure  that  she  was  wearing  a  mask  and  that 
she  had  some  secret,  some  hidden  love  in  her  life. 
His  jealousy  revived  and  was  urged  on  to  try  to  lift 
the  veil  he  had  intended  to  respect.  The  burning 
question  rose  to  his  lips,  but  he  was  afraid,  afraid 
lest  the  Duchess,  at  his  first  word,  should,  in  the  firm, 
haughty  way  he  knew  so  well,  put  on  an  impassive 
expression  and  conceal  from  him  her  soul.  He  little 
knew  how  her  heart  was  hungering  for  tenderness  and 
how  she  longed  for  a  few  words  of  love  from  his  lips. 
He  hesitated  to  speak,  and  Christiane,  troubled  by  his 
silence,  questioned  him  with  a  wavering  look  in  her 
eyes. 

"  Is  it  true,"  he  asked  her,  in  a  changed  voice,  "  that 
you  are  thinking  of  marrying  again  and  that  you  are 
going  to  marry  Challans  ?  " 

The  astonishment  that  these  words  caused  Madame 
de  Blanzac  brought  her  to  herself  effectually. 

"  Who  can  have  told  you  that?  "  she  asked. 

"No  matter  who  told  me,"  answered  the  Marquis 
brusquely.    "  Is  it  true?  " 

"True?    No,  a  thousand  times  no!" 

On  hearing  this  emphatic  denial,  Jacques'  face  ex- 
pressed such  joy,  that  the  Duchess  was  again  confused. 

"  I  like  Louis  very  much  indeed,  as  a  friend,"  she 
said,  "  and  I  think  the  liking  is  mutual.  I  should 
never  have  imagined,  though,  that  any  one  could  have 
mistaken  our  friendship  for  love.  And  you  believed 
in  this  ridiculous  marriage?    You? " 

"  Yes,  because  I  know  that  the  most  improbable 
things  nearly  always  happen,  and  especially  those  that 
one  dreads  most.     I  am  glad  that  this  is  not  true.    It 


AMERICAN  NOBILITY  325 

seems  to  me  that  I  have  just  roused  after  a  night- 
mare," continued  Jacques,  drawing  in  a  long  breath. 
"  I  shall  be  able  to  go  away  in  peace,  now,"  he  added. 

"  Go  away  ?    Are  you  going  away  ?  " 

"  Yes,  to  America,  at  the  end  of  April.  I  have 
promised  Mrs.  Villars  to  take  Annie  to  see  them  all. 
I  must  keep  my  promise." 

The  news  of  this  trip  to  America,  for  which  she 
had  not  been  prepared,  made  Christiane  turn  pale,  and 
a  look  of  sorrow  came  into  her  eyes,  betraying  her  a 
second  time.  Jacques'  heart  beat  fast,  as  in  hours  of 
victory.  In  the  midst  of  his  exultation,  he  distinctly 
heard  the  voice  of  his  conscience  bidding  him  stop. 
How  could  he  stop,  though,  when  he  felt  that  the 
psychological  moment  had  just  come  for  the  Duchess 
and  that  he  had  her  in  his  power!  In  order  to  stop 
at  such  a  moment,  it  would  have  needed  virtue  that 
he  did  not  possess  and  that  none  of  the  Anguilhon  men 
had  ever  possessed.  He  drew  nearer  to  the  Duchess 
and,  in  a  caressing  voice,  that  seemed  to  penetrate  her 
and  make  her  feel  that  she  was  wrapped  from  head 
to  foot  in  the  magnetic  fluid  emanating  from  him,  he 
said  in  a  very  low  tone: 

"  You  do  not  ask  me  why  I  am  glad  that  you  are 
free." 

Christiane  recoiled  with  an  instinctive  movement  of 
fear. 

"  Do  not  be  afraid,"  said  the  Marquis,  very  gently. 

"  I  am  not  afraid,"  answered  Madame  de  Blanzac, 
drawing  herself  up  proudly.  "  Why  should  I  be 
afraid?" 

"  Because  you  know  that  T  love  you,"  answered  the 
Marquis. 

And  then,  feeling  that  he  would  have  to  violate  this 


326  AMERICAN  NOBTLTTY 

woman's  heart,  if  he  were  to  have  her  secret,  he  added 
boldly : 

"  And  because  you  know  that  you  love  me  too." 

The  Duchess  could  not  turn  paler  than  she  already 
was,  but  her  eyes  flashed  and  her  delicate  nostrils 
dilated  with  anger.  She  endeavoured  to  brave  the 
ardent  gaze  fixed  on  her.  Her  eyelids  quivered;  she 
wanted  to  protest,  but  not  a  sound  could  she  utter. 

The  Marquis  took  Christiane's  hands  and  held  them 
in  his,  clasping  his  own  over  them. 

"  Deny  it,  if  you  can,"  he  said,  with  that  accent  of 
authority  which  always  won  for  him  what  he  wanted. 

For  a  few  seconds,  Madame  de  Blanzac  looked  at 
this  man's  face  raised  towards  her  own.  The  love 
which  emanated  from  it  penetrated  her  through  and 
through  and  her  resistance  gave  way  entirely. 

"  I  cannot,"  she  answered. 

She  made  this  confession,  with  head  erect,  tears  in 
her  eyes,  and  quivering  lips,  like  a  woman  conquered 
by  the  higher  will  incarnated  in  her  own  heart.  The 
Marquis  bent  and  kissed  the  hands  he  held,  gently  and 
almost  humbly. 

"  My  whole  life  for  those  words,"  he  said,  absolutely 
forgetting  his  wife,  his  child,  and  all  his  other  vows. 

Then  with  that  fine  emotion  caused  by  love  in  his 
voice,  which  always  touches  a  woman  so  deeply,  he 
told  her  that  he  had  always  loved  her,  that  he  had 
never  loved  any  one  but  her.  He  told  her  how  this 
love,  which  he  had  always  had  within  him,  had  mani- 
fested itself.  He  told  her  of  his  struggle,  of  his  suf- 
fering. He  acknowledged  himself  vanquished  and 
happy  to  be  vanquished. 

"  I  was  afraid  that  you  were  thinking  of  marrying 
again  for  the  sake  of  putting  a  second  barrier  between 


AMERICAN  NOBILITY  327 

us.  I  was  afraid — and  you  can  never  imagine  how- 
afraid  I  was — of  losing  you." 

The  Duchess  drank  in  these  words.  The  love  which 
she  no  longer  tried  to  hide  gave  to  her  face  a  divine 
light  and  gentleness.  In  his  wildest  dreams,  Jacques 
had  never  seen  her  so  transfigured. 

"  And  you  thought  me  capable  of  marrying  Louis, 
or  indeed  any  one,  knowing  that  I  loved  you  ?  "  said 
Christiane,  in  a  reproachful  tone.  "  It  would  have 
been  an  unworthy  thing  to  do." 

"How  could  I  help  it?  Jealousy  gives  us  frightful 
hallucinations.  Yes,  it  was  mad,  for  we  were  made 
for  each  other.  God  must  have  said,  when  he  created 
us :     *  This  man  for  this  woman.'  " 

The  Duchess's  face  darkened  over. 

"  And  then  He  separated  us ! "  she  said  with  an 
expression  of  intense  bitterness. 

"  Because  it  requires  obstacles,  and  even  sorrow,  for 
producing  really  great  love,"  answered  the  Marquis  in 
a  grave  voice,  deeply  moved. 

"  Oh,  I  wish  I  could  believe  that  our  destinies  are 
foreordained." 

"  Believe  it,  for  it  is  the  truth." 

"  I  know,  at  least,  that  you  came  into  my  life  with- 
out my  will  having  anything  to  do  with  it  at  all.  You 
were  sent  to  me — yes,  sent.  I  took  for  friendshij) 
what  was  love.  I  was  blind,  or  rather  blinded  till  the 
day  when  you  came  to  tell  me  of  your  engagement." 

The  Duchess's  voice  failed  her,  as  she  said  this. 

"  And  I  never  guessed  anything  of  all  this ! "  ex- 
claimed Jacques.  "  And  I  thought  my  perception  so 
keen.  I  put  your  nerves  and  your  sudden  coldness,  at 
times,  to  an  instinct  of  coquetry.  I  must  have  made 
you  suffer  horribly,"  he  added,  sorrowfully.     "  Forgive 


328  AMERICAN  NOBILITY 

me  my  stupidity  and  my  unconscious  cruelty.  I  did 
not  know,  I  really  did  not  know." 

"  Of  course  you  did  not  know.  I,  too,  was  wearing 
a  mask,"  said  the  Duchess,  glancing  at  the  Addolorata. 
"  Oh,  I  fought  hard  against  you  and  against  myself. 
You  and  I  were  as  one  then,  so  that  it  was  a  formidable 
struggle  for  me.  I  had  noticed  Christolphe's  statue  a 
week  before  you  came  to  talk  to  me  about  your  mar- 
riage. The  impression  it  had  made  on  me  was  simply 
the  presentiment  of  my  own  lot." 

"  From  henceforth,  Christiane,  your  mask  will  hide 
nothing  but  happiness,"  said  Jacques,  in  a  tender, 
passionate  tone. 

The  Duchess  shook  her  head. 

"  Happiness  ?  "  she  repeated.  "  All  forbidden  fruit 
is  poisonous.     You  know  that  as  well  as  I  do." 

"What  does  that  matter,  as  long  as  we  die 
together?" 

"  Ah,  but  that  is  just  it.    We  shall  not  die  together." 

"You  shall  never  suffer  through  me.  I  give  you 
my  word  for  that." 

"  It  will  be  through  the  force  of  things,  the  laws 
that  we  violate." 

"  Well,  then,  knowing  this,  would  you,  even  if  you 
could,  give  up  loving  me  now?"  asked  the  Marquis, 
holding  Christiane  under  the  spell  of  his  ardent 
gaze. 

"  No,  I  would  not,"  she  answered. 

Deeply  affected,  Jacques  kissed  the  hands  passion- 
ately that  were  lying  in  his. 

"And  you  are  glad  that  I  have  dragged  this  secret 
from  you,  the  secret  that  waa  yours  alone?"  he 
insisted. 

"  I  am  very  glad." 


AMERICAN  NOBILITY  329 

"Ah,  I  shall  never  have  the  courage  to  go  away 
now,"  said  Jacques. 

Christiane's  lips  twitched  with  anguish. 

"  You  must,"  she  said.  "  Whatever  may  be  the 
distance  between  us  now,  we  shall  nevermore  be 
separated." 

"  But  before  going,  my  darling,  I  want  to  kneel  at 
your  feet  and  assure  you  of  my  love  and  adoration. 
Can  I  not  come  some  day  to  your  Villa  de  la  Rosette, 
where  you  are  more  really  at  home  than  here?  " 

The  Duchess  turned  pale  again  and  drew  her  hands 
suddenly  away.  Like  all  women  of  pronounced  indi- 
viduality, she  rebelled,  instinctively,  on  feeling  a  man's 
yoke  on  her  neck. 

"  Let  you  come  to  La  Rosette  ?  "  she  repeated,  shud- 
dering from  head  to  foot.  "  Later  on — when  I  can 
arrange  it." 

Then,  seeing  the  sorrowful  look  on  Jacques'  face  at 
her  somewhat  haughty  tone,  she  smiled  gently. 

"  Do  not  be  afraid,"  she  said,  in  a  tender  voice.  "  I 
shall  never  change.  Be  generous,  though,  and  let  me 
have  time  to  come  to  myself  again.    Now,  go " 

She  rose  somewhat  unsteadily  to  her  feet,  as  she 
spoke.  The  Marquis  had  the  greatest  difficulty  to 
refrain  from  taking  her  in  his  arms,  so  beautiful  did 
she  look  to  him  in  the  intoxication  of  his  passionate 
love.  The  sound  of  footsteps  and  the  entrance  of  the 
footman,  brought  him  to  himself.  Neither  Jacques  nor 
the  Duchess  would  have  wished  to  exchange  their  first 
kiss  in  this  open  drawing-room. 

"  I  adore  you,"  murmured  the  Marquis,  as  his  leave- 
taking. 

"  And  I  love  you,"  answered  Christiane,  in  the  same 
way. 


330  AMERICAN  NOBILITY 

With  these  words,  they  separated,  as  closely  and 
absolutely  united,  as  though  they  really  belonged  to 
each  other. 

And  so  Annie  was  betrayed,  as  every  Marchioness 
d'Anguilhon  had  been. 


CHAPTER  XIV 

The  Duchess  had  kept  La  Rosette,  the  estate  on  the 
Sevres  road  which  her  father  had  bought  for  her  and 
which  had  been  her  out-door  nursery.  She  had  not 
only  kept  it,  but  she  had  enlarged  and  beautified  it, 
and  she  often  said  that  it  was  the  most  precious  to 
her  of  all  her  possessions. 

Her  nurse,  Toni,  still  lived  in  the  comfortable  cot- 
tage, which  served  as  the  lodge.  Christiane's  foster- 
brother,  who  was  a  well-educated  and  intelligent 
farmer,  cultivated  the  land  and  managed  the  estate, 
which,  in  his  hands,  was  doing  very  well. 

The  villa  was  entirely  surrounded  with  flowers  and 
was  separated  from  the  road  and  from  the  farm  by 
a  kind  of  English  garden,  the  trees  of  which  had  been 
so  well  chosen  and  so  admirably  planted  that  they 
gave  the  illusion  of  a  large  park.  By  covering  the 
outer  walls  with  ivy  and  climbing  plants,  and  by 
having  some  of  the  walls  knocked  down  inside  the 
house,  and  the  staircase  altered,  Madame  de  Blanzac 
had  taken  away  the  commonplace  look  and  made  a 
charming  home  for  herself. 

She  went  nearly  every  day  to  La  Rosette.  Some- 
times she  spent  the  whole  morning  there  and  only 
returned  to  the  Rue  de  Varenne  for  her  reception. 
Toni  always  prepared  a  dainty  lunch  for  her  and 
waited  at  table  herself.    At  times,  Christiane  felt  the 

331 


332  AMERICAN  NOBILITY 

need  of  these  little  motherly  attentions.  This  woman, 
who  possessed  so  many  things,  and  who  was  sur- 
rounded by  friends  and  admirers,  was  very  poor  and 
very  solitary.  She  had  neither  husband,  children,  nor 
near  relatives.  Her  uncle  and  her  nurse  were  all  she 
had  to  count  on  in  the  way  of  family  affection.  She 
was  fully  conscious  of  her  isolation  and  it  grieved  her. 
In  the  spring,  she  often  invited  her  most  intimate 
friends  to  her  villa,  but  only  her  intimate  friends.  She 
would  not,  upon  any  account,  have  indifferent  people, 
or  those  who  were  not  congenial  to  her,  in  this  retreat, 
so  full  of  her  dearest  memories. 

It  was  here  then  that  she  was  to  know  the  joy  of 
love.  By  one  of  those  ironies,  so  frequent  in  the  his- 
tory of  people  and  nations,  which  prove  the  blind- 
ness of  mortals.  Baron  Soria,  himself,  had  bought  and 
prepared  the  nest  which  was  to  shelter  the  guilty  love 
of  his  daughter — the  love  that  was  to  end  in  her  death. 

A  week  after  the  avowal  that  Jacques  had  wrung 
from  her,  Christiane  arrived  at  La  Rosette,  looking 
very  pale.  She  was  very  nervous  and,  evidently,  under 
the  influence  of  some  violent  emotion.  Toni  went  with 
her  to  her  room,  as  usual,  to  help  her  to  change  her 
dress.  Just  as  she  was  going  away  again,  her  mis- 
tress, who  was  seated  at  her  dressing-table,  said  to 
her,  in  a  dry,  haughty  tone,  without  looking  at  her : 

"  Toni,  a  friend  of  mine  will  be  coming  to  see  me 
sometimes  here.  I  do  not  wish  his  visits  to  be  spoken 
of.    You  understand  ?  " 

Toni  understood  so  well,  that  she  stood  still,  as 
though  petrified.  Her  eyes  expressed  her  surprise  and 
grief,  and  a  blush  of  shame  came  over  her  wrinkled 
face.  She  went  away  slowly,  without  uttering  a  word. 
The  blush,  which  Christiane  had  seen  in  the  glass,  and 


AMERICAN  NOBILITY  333 

the  distressed  silence  which  followed,  troubled  her 
much  more  than  reproaches  would  have  done.  For 
the  first  time  in  her  life,  she  felt  humiliated  and  low- 
ered in  her  own  esteem.  It  hurt  her  pride  to  take 
Toni  into  her  confidence  about  her  liaison,  but  there 
seemed  to  be  no  alternative. 

And  so  the  Duchess  was  giving  to  Jacques,  not  only 
the  magnificent  gift  of  herself,  but  she  was  sacrificing 
to  him  that  untarnished  reputation  which  had  hitherto 
been  her  force  and  her  pride.  No  man  is  capable  of 
understanding  what  this  sacrifice  means  to  a  woman 
of  high  character. 

The  Marquis  d'Anguilhon  and  Madame  de  Blanzac 
had  now  been  lovers  for  some  time.  They  had  known 
the  splendour  of  that  love,  the  germ  of  which  is  so 
deeply  implanted  in  the  human  soul.  The  physical 
and  moral  affinities,  which  existed  between  them, 
united  them  as  closely  as  possible  and  gave  them 
divine  communion  with  each  other.  For  months  and 
months,  on  separating,  each  was  conscious  of  leaving 
in  the  heart  of  the  other  a  still  more  passionate  love. 
Earthly  happiness  can  go  no  further  than  this. 

Christiane's  love  was  the  most  complete  and  intoxi- 
cating delight  that  the  Marquis  had  ever  known.  It 
satisfied  his  mind  and  his  senses.  It  was  not  only  the 
Duchess,  in  the  perfect  development  of  her  beauty  that 
he  possessed,  but  also  the  tawny-haired  child,  who  had 
awakened  the  man  within  him,  the  young  bride,  coming 
down  the  nave  of  St.  Clotilde's  who  had  aroused  his 
desire,  and  the  inaccessible  woman,  who  had  always 
appeared  to  him  on  a  pedestal.  All  these  images,  re- 
peated over  and  over  again  in  his  brain,  served  to 
increase  his  passion.     The  idea  that  Christiane  had 


334  AMERICAN  NOBILITY 

given  herself  to  him,  Christiane,  who  was  so  strong 
and  who  had  such  marked  individuality,  touched  him 
deeply  and,  at  the  same  time,  made  him  exultant.  A 
woman  is  no  weight  on  a  man's  arm,  but  she  fre- 
quently weighs  heavily  on  his  mind.  All  the  women 
Jacques  had  loved  hitherto,  had,  at  times  bored  him, 
and  he  had  felt  suddenly  nervous  and  wished  he  could 
get  away  from  them.  He  never  wanted  to  leave  Chris- 
tiane. She  held  him  under  a  spell,  as  it  were,  not  by 
using  artifice,  as  she  was  too  much  in  love  herself  for 
that,  but  by  her  real  fascination,  the  gift  she  had  of 
making  herself  liked,  and  of  being  interesting,  a  gift 
she  possessed  in  a  supreme  degree. 

Any  one  who  is  really  superior  is  never  long  pros- 
trated either  by  grief  or  pleasure.  On  leaving  Jacques' 
arms,  the  Duchess's  mind,  endowed  with  gi'eat  elasticity, 
soon  recovered  itself  and  she  quickly  regained  her  own 
personality.  The  Marquis  was  often  perplexed  by  this 
and  sometimes  wondered  whether  he  had  been  dream- 
ing, or  whether  Christiane  really  was  his.  The  languor 
of  her  eyes  and  the  tender  vibration  of  her  voice  soon 
convinced  him,  though,  that  it  was  not  all  a  dream. 
He  was  intensely  happy,  but,  except  in  the  actual 
presence  of  Christiane,  his  happiness  caused  him  suf- 
fering. In  the  midst  of  his  delight,  he  felt  the  sting 
of  remorse.  Annie,  with  all  her  pleasant  ways  and 
her  absolute  confidence  in  him,  was  daily  heaping  coals 
of  fire  upon  his  head.  It  was  all  in  vain  that  he  clung 
to  his  theory  of  predestination  and  said  to  himself  that 
his  union  with  Christiane  had  been  as  inevitable  as 
his  union  with  Annie.  He  was  ashamed  of  the  part 
he  was  playing  and  ashamed  of  himself. 

Jacques'  love  had  given  to  the  Duchess  a  happiness 
so  new  to  her,  and  so  intoxicating,  that  she  had  neither 


AMERICAN  NOBILITY  335 

felt  regret,  remorse,  nor  even  jealousy.  When  she  re- 
turned to  Paris,  after  one  of  his  visits  to  her  villa,  she 
would  bury  herself  in  the  corner  of  her  carriage  and 
close  her  eyes,  in  order  to  retain  more  clearly  all  the 
impressions  she  had  had,  and  these  impressions  pro- 
duced an  exultation  that  made  her  whole  body  feel 
light  and  herself  full  of  joy.  The  fragrance  of  the 
flowers  she  always  took  back  came  up  to  her  in  whiffs 
and  gave  her  the  sensation  of  a  last,  delicious  caress. 
She  then  met  the  Marquis  out  at  receptions  and  balls, 
or  at  the  theatre.  The  glances,  full  of  memories  and 
promises,  that  they  exchanged,  the  furtive  clasping  of 
hands,  the  long  waltzes  they  danced  together,  and  the 
tender  words  murmured  in  a  low  voice  increased  her 
hai)piness  and  her  passionate  love.  She  was  so  su- 
premely happy  that  Annie's  existence  did  not  inter- 
fere with  her  at  all.  The  "  Jacques "  of  whom  the 
young  wife  spoke,  whom  she  called  "  my  husband  " 
and  whom  she  mixed  up  with  all  the  prosaic  details 
of  her  household,  seemed  to  Christiane  quite  a  dif- 
ferent man  from  the  one  she  loved.  Under  the  influ- 
ence of  this  sentiment,  which  gave  a  fulness  to  her 
life  that  she  had  never  before  experienced,  her  beauty 
acquired  a  brilliancy  which  struck  all  her  friends,  and 
a  great  gentleness  came  over  her  and  within  her. 
There  was  less  haughtiness  now  in  her  manner.  She 
was  more  affable,  more  kindly,  and  generous  in  the 
extreme.  Her  generosity  indeed  developed  into  prod- 
igality. She  gave  away,  as  though  hoping  that  her 
charity  might  cover  her  sin  and  obtain  forgiveness  for 
her  happiness. 

Dr.  Moreau  understood,  only  too  well,  what  actuated 
her  charity.  He  could  have  told  the  very  day  when 
she  had  become  the  Marquis  d'Anguilhon's  mistress. 


336  AMERICAN  NOBILITY 

He  saw  that  she  was  still  under  the  influence  of  love's 
intoxication;  but  he  knew  that  the  day  would  arrive 
when  she  would  come  to  herself  once  more  and  that 
she  would  then  suffer  horribly.  He  often  called  to 
see  her,  under  one  pretext  or  another.  The  Duchess 
realised  that  he  knew  her  secret.  Just  at  first,  his 
perspicacity  had  irritated  her,  but  finally  it  was  a 
sort  of  comfort  to  her  to  have  this  silent  and  discreet 
confidant.  When  he  left  her,  after  shaking  hands 
affectionately,  she  always  felt  that  she  had  in  him 
a  friend  on  whom  she  could  absolutely  rely. 

With  the  Duchess,  this  intoxication  lasted  a  whole 
year.  She  came  to  herself  again  gradually,  but  the 
love  remained,  a  deep,  violent,  and  passionate  love. 
Christiane  then  began  to  suffer  on  account  of  various 
things.  In  the  first  place,  there  were  the  family  ties 
which  were  such  an  obstacle  between  herself  and 
Jacques,  then  the  fragility  of  the  bond  which  united 
them  troubled  her,  and  also  their  clandestine  inter- 
course. She  was  even  seized  with  a  wild  desire  to 
become  a  mother.  It  was  as  though  love  had  touched 
every  chord  in  her  being.  The  sight  of  a  baby  would 
bring  tears  to  her  eyes.  She  longed  to  have  a  son  by 
Jacques,  and  delighted  in  picturing  the  child  much 
more  handsome  than  little  Philippe.  She  dreamed  of 
him  day  and  night  and  imagined  she  saw  him  alive 
and  smiling.  She  stretched  out  her  arms  to  him  and 
her  arms  embraced  nothing  but  emptiness.  Many 
women,  and  often  the  best  ones,  are  doomed  to  embrace 
nothing  but  chimeras. 

When  Christiane's  hallucination  was  over,  she  would 
blush  and  laugh,  but  with  tears  in  her  eyes.  Every 
separation  now  made  her  suffer  keenly.  When  she 
returned  from  her  villa,  the  silence  and  loneliness  of 


AMERICAN  NOBILITY  337 

her  home  in  Paris  made  her  shudder.  She  had  to 
make  a  great  effort  to  discharge  all  the  duties  of  her 
everyday  life,  whilst  thiuking,  all  the  time,  of  Jacques. 

On  leaving  Madame  de  Blanzac  and  returning  home, 
the  Marquis  always  found  Annie,  his  child,  and  his 
mother.  It  was  a  bright,  cheerful  home,  warm  with 
affection.  The  tranquillity  he  found  there  was  very 
pleasant  and  soothed  his  nerves.  It  gave  him  the  same 
sensation  as  the  little  white  roses,  the  "  Bride's  roses," 
with  which  he  used  to  cool  his  cheeks,  as  a  child.  Then 
his  business  affairs,  his  club,  and  his  horses  took  up 
a  great  deal  of  his  time  and  attention.  Christiane  was 
his  luxury  and  his  passion,  but  she  was  not  his  whole 
life. 

Woman  was  created  for  man,  and  not  man  for 
woman.  This  law,  the  cause  of  so  many  misunder- 
standings and  of  so  much  suffering,  had  always  been 
comprehended  by  Christiane,  and,  before  she  had 
loved,  she  had  thought  it  just.  At  present,  it  caused 
her  great  suffering,  in  spite  of  her  reasoning  and  her 
will-power.  An  incident  occurred,  which  showed  Chris- 
tiane clearly  the  source  of  her  suffering,  and  which 
roused  her  effectually  from  the  dream  in  which  she 
had  been  living. 

The  Anguilhons  had  been  spending  the  summer  at 
Deauville.  They  had  rented  the  same  villa  which  Mrs. 
Villars  had  taken,  three  years  previously.  Jacques 
took  a  chill,  while  out  shooting.  He  was  extremely 
feverish  and,  for  forty-eight  hours,  the  doctors  feared 
pneumonia. 

Christiane  then  realised  that  the  Marquis  did  not 
belong  to  her  and  that  she  was  completely  outside  his 
life.  He  did  not  belong  to  her,  and  yet  he  was  flesh 
of  her  flesh  and  soul  of  her  soul.     Her  feet  were  ready 


338  AMERICAN  NOBILITY 

to  take  her  to  his  bedside  and  her  hands  could  have 
helped  and  soothed  him,  but  she  might  not  go  to  him. 
Annie  alone  had  that  right.  Christiane  saw  her  bend- 
ing over  him,  perhaps  kissing  him.  This  vision  made 
the  most  cruel  and  painful  of  all  jealousies  spring  up 
in  her  heart,  the  jealousy  of  the  mistress  in  the  pre- 
sence of  the  wife.  She  could  not  bring  herself  to  ask 
Jacques'  wife  how  he  was ;  she  always  asked  his  mother. 
Her  intense  anxiety,  and  the  constraint  she  was  com- 
pelled to  put  upon  herself,  made  her  so  strange  and  so 
unnatural,  that  Guy  de  Nozay,  who  was  staying  with 
the  Anguilhons,  had  no  longer,  to  his  great  sorrow,  a 
doubt  about  her  liaison  with  his  friend.  Several  times, 
with  the  most  admirable  presence  of  mind  and  the 
most  chivalrous  devotion,  he  turned  aside  her  im- 
prudences and  prevented  her  from  betraying  herself. 

The  day  Jacques  came  downstairs  for  the  first  time, 
the  Duchess  happened  to  be  there.  When  he  entered 
the  room,  he  looked  first  at  her  and  was  surprised  to 
see  no  joy  written  upon  her  face.  He  was  struck  by 
the  expression  of  deep  suffering  that  he  read  there. 
Feeling  very  uneasy  about  this,  he  contrived  to  be 
alone  with  her  for  a  few  moments,  and  he  then  asked 
her  what  was  the  matter. 

Christiane  looked  at  him  with  eyes  full  of  sadness. 

"  How  can  you  ask  me  what  is  the  matter  ?  "  she 
said,  in  a  broken  voice.  "  Have  you  not  been  ill,  and 
I  could  not  nurse  you  ?  " 

"Is  that  it?"  said  the  Marquis,  smiling,  and  his 
whole  face  lighting  up.  "  And  so  you  would  have  liked 
to  nurse  me?  Oh,  you  were  not  intended  for  the  ugly 
things  of  life.  A  sick  person  is  neither  attractive  nor 
pleasant.  I  should  have  been  very  sorry  for  you  to 
have  seen  me  when  I  was  so  feverish." 


AMERICAN  NOBILITY  339 

"  You  consider  me  then  as  a  creature  of  luxury." 

"  Of  great  luxurj-^,  yes,  and  very,  very  precious," 
replied  Jacques,  tenderly. 

A  few  weeks  before,  these  words  would  have  flattered 
hej*.  After  all  the  anguish  she  had  been  enduring,  they 
hurt  her  and  seemed  like  an  insult.  Her  pride  pre- 
vented her  from  showing  what  she  felt  and  her  intelli- 
gence prevented  her  from  continuing  the  subject.  The 
corners  of  her  mouth,  alone,  indicated  her  disdain  for 
the  inferiority  of  men  in  matters  of  sentiment. 

From  that  moment,  Christiane  felt  the  effects  of  the 
poison  which,  as  she  herself  had  said,  is  to  be  found 
in  all  forbidden  fruit.  It  gradually  penetrated  through 
her  flesh  to  her  very  soul,  drove  sleep  away  from  her, 
made  her  face  turn  pale  constantly,  and  changed  all 
that  was  highest,  and  best  in  her  nature.  She  could 
no  longer  see  Annie  at  the  head  of  her  own  table  with- 
out suffering  keenly.  The  sight  of  little  Philippe  be- 
came dreadfully  painful  to  her.  The  thought  that  all 
the  luxury,  which  was  Jacques'  delight,  was  due  to  his 
wife,  humiliated  and  irritated  her.  Curiosity  seems  to 
have  been  added  to  jealousy  for  the  sake  of  making 
the  latter  even  more  cruel.  Christiane  felt  a  wild  de- 
sire to  know  on  what  terms  the  husband  and  wife 
were  and  the  precise  character  of  their  relations.  She 
questioned  Annie  as  far  as  discretion  would  permit 
and  even  went  rather  beyond  its  bounds.  If  her  rival 
had  been  French,  she  would  have  suffered  still  more. 
Annie's  love  was  as  simple  as  it  was  deep,  and  its 
utter  absence  of  exultation  reassured  the  Duchess. 
She  came  to  Annie  in  search  of  the  solace  she  so  sorely 
needed,  and  she  neither  owed  her  any  grudge  nor  hated 
her  personally. 

Christiane  loved  and  suffered  with  all  the  refinement 


340  AMERICAN  NOBILITY 

she  had  inherited  from  her  mother  and  with  all  the 
force  that  had  come  to  her  from  her  father.  This 
force,  to  which  her  fine  impulses  of  generosity,  her 
enthusiasm,  and  her  intellectual  activity  were  due,  gave 
her  also  a  violence  of  character,  which  education  and 
her  own  will  had  hitherto  held  in  check.  Her  love 
now  increased  this  natural  violence,  Madame  de 
Blanzac  was  now,  in  truth,  an  Addolorata.  The  pity 
she  had  felt  on  seeing  Christolphe's  statue  was  one  of 
those  strange  presentiments  which  pass  through  the 
human  soul,  a  presentiment  like  that  of  Mary  Mag- 
delene,  when  she  bathed  the  feet  of  Jesus  with  her 
tears  and  with  perfumes,  in  preparation  for  his  burial. 

It  was  not  only  for  the  world  that  Christiane  wore 
a  smiling  mask,  it  was  still  more  for  Jacques.  Out 
of  pride,  she  concealed  her  jealousy  from  him  and,  out 
of  delicacy,  she  was  mute  about  her  suffering.  In  his 
presence,  she  was  brilliant  and  gay,  just  as  though  she 
had  no  cares  and  no  regrets,  as  though  she  were  fully 
satisfied  with  the  place  she  occupied  in  his  life.  She 
gave  him  all  the  happiness  he  expected  from  her.  It 
was  her  glory  to  make  him  more  happy  than  any  other 
woman  had  done.  She  succeeded  in  this,  but  she  alone 
knew  at  what  cost. 

In  spite  of  all  this,  the  Marquis  felt,  at  times,  an 
intensity  of  passion  in  her  that  made  him  vaguely 
uneasy.  He  recognised  signs  of  frenzy  in  a  woman,  as 
he  did  in  a  horse.  He  thought  he  saw  these  signs  in 
Christiane  and  he  was  alarmed.  He  consoled  himself 
with  the  thought  that  her  lofty  nature  and  her  extreme 
good  sense  were  a  safeguard  for  them  both. 

He  had  forgotten  the  red,  plebeian  blood  that  flowed 
through  the  Duchess's  veins,  and  he  little  thought, 
unfortunately,  how  strong  instinct  still  was  within  her. 


CHAPTER  XV 

The  liaison  of  the  Marquis  d'Anguilhon  and  the 
Duchess  de  Blanzac  had  lasted  two  years,  and  Annie 
had  neither  heard  of  it  nor  yet  guessed  the  truth.  She 
had  been  brought  up  among  straightforward  people 
and  was,  herself,  too  straightforward  to  imagine  it 
possible  that  she  could  be  deceived  within  the  second 
year  of  her  married  life,  and  betrayed  by  a  woman 
whom  she  looked  upon,  after  Madame  de  Keradieu,  as 
her  best  friend.  The  very  odiousness  of  this  treachery, 
under  the  circumstances,  would  alone  have  served  to 
prevent  her  suspecting  it.  Thanks  to  her  temperament, 
Annie  knew  nothing  of  passion.  She  was  merely  a 
loving  wife;  she  was  not  a  passionately  loving 
woman.  She  had  not  within  herself  the  key  to  certain 
things,  and  Jacques  had  taken  care  not  to  give  it  her. 
When  she  was  with  her  husband  and  the  Duchess,  she 
chattered  gaily,  without  seeing  the  appeal  in  their  eyes 
and  without  hearing  the  vibrations  in  their  voices. 
She  did  not  feel  that  electricity  which  emanates  from 
love,  and  is,  perhaps,  love  itself,  the  electricity  which 
aflfects  everyone  who  possesses  any  impressionability. 

She  was  not  surprised  that  Jacques  should  enjoy 
Madame  de  Blanzac's  society,  as  she  herself  always 
found  fresh  charm  in  it.  She  rather  envied  the  power 
Christiane  had  to  interest  and  amuse  him,  but  this 
did  not  amount  to  jealousy. 

341 


342  AMERICAN  NOBILITY 

For  some  months  past,  Annie  had  noticed  a  change 
in  the  Duchess's  manner  to  her.  Christiane  had  fits  of 
coldness  and  a  strange  abruptness  which  frequently 
surprised  and  hurt  her  and,  as  she  was  very  sus- 
ceptible, like  most  Americans,  Madame  de  Blanzac 
had  often  been  obliged  to  exert  all  her  charms  to  win 
her  pardon.  If  Annie  had  been  accustomed  to  reflect- 
ing, her  impressions  would  have  developed  and  would 
have  awakened  her  suspicions.  Her  physical  activity, 
though,  prevented  her  from  ruminating  and  her  dis- 
position, like  that  of  a  very  healthy  child,  was  more 
given  to  driving  away  unpleasant  things  than  to  going 
in  search  of  them. 

Nothing,  therefore,  had  occurred  so  far  to  disturb 
Annie's  tranquillity.  She  had  happiness  enough,  ap- 
parently, to  have  contented  ten  women  and  yet,  in  the 
depths  of  her  heart,  there  was  a  sort  of  latent  disap- 
pointment. Two  j'ears  in  succession,  she  had  been 
obliged  to  give  up  her  visit  to  America,  the  first  time 
on  account  of  her  child  and  then  because  of  the  serious 
illness  of  her  mother-in-law.  If  it  had  not  been  for 
the  Duchess,  Jacques  would,  undoubtedly,  have  found 
time  and  the  opportunity  to  accompany  his  wife  to 
New  York.  He  had  not  done  so,  and  had  arranged 
matters  in  such  a  way  that  he  could  not  have  been 
blamed  for  unwillingness.  Mrs.  Villars  and  Clara  were 
getting  more  and  more  impatient  at  the  delay,  and  it 
was  to  this  cause  that  the  Marchioness  attributed  the 
annoyance  she  felt.  She  frequently  recalled  Clara's 
words  to  her :  "  When  you  are  married  to  a  French- 
man," her  cousin  had  said,  "  you  will  find  that  you 
are  years  away  from  America." 

Fearing  that  his  wife  should  treat  him  as  an  Ameri- 
can, Jacques  had  established  his  independence  from 


AMERICAN  NOBILITY  34S 

the  very  beginning  of  their  married  life.  Annie  was 
too  proud  to  question  him  as  to  how  he  spent  his  time. 
She  knew  nothing  except  what  he  chose  to  tell  her, 
and  this  spared  the  Marquis  a  great  deal  of  untruth 
and  prevarication. 

His  liaison  did  not  make  any  visible  difference  in 
his  behaviour  towards  his  wife.  He  was  most  attentive 
to  her,  and  his  courtesy  always  charmed  her.  Every 
day,  before  dressing  for  dinner,  he  spent  an  hour  with 
her  and  their  child.  He  played  with  little  Philippe 
and  covered  his  fair  curls  and  sweet  little  face  with 
such  passionate  kisses,  that  the  mother's  heart  was 
envious.  He  talked  to  Annie  about  their  plans  and 
mutual  interests.  He  always  mingled  a  few  affection- 
ate words  with  what  he  said  on  these  commonplace 
subjects  and,  when  his  conscience  was  more  than 
usually  burdened,  he  was  more  lavish  with  his  caresses. 
As  soon  as  he  left  her,  his  wife  became  fully  aware  that 
he  had  not  really  told  her  anything.  She  was  tempted, 
sometimes,  to  follow  him  and  to  reproach  him  with 
this,  but  when  she  began  to  think  things  over  she 
did  not  see  what  complaint  she  could  make.  She  felt 
injured  nevertheless. 

The  social  world  in  which  she  now  mixed  had  not 
treated  her,  on  the  whole,  as  she  had  expected.  Blonay 
had  taken  its  place  again  among  the  great  chateaux 
of  France.  Its  hospitality  was  almost  royal  and 
people  considered  it  an  honour  to  be  invited  and 
were  always  pleased  to  return  there.  During  the 
season,  in  Paris,  the  young  Marchioness  was  con- 
stantly invited  to  balls,  dinners,  and  receptions  of 
all  kinds.  She  was  received  everywhere  most  kindly, 
and  people  seemed  to  like  her  more  and  more. 
She  was  very  generally  approved  and  people  consid- 


344  AMERICAN  NOBILITY 

ered  that  she  did  credit  to  the  name  and  rank  she 
bore.  In  spite  of  this,  though,  she  had  not  been  ad- 
mitted into  any  special  set.  She  was  invited  to  give 
money  to  various  charitable  works,  but  she  was  only 
admitted  as  an  honorary  member  and  not  asked  to 
become  a  member  of  the  Managing  Committees.  She 
met  with  this  exclusiveness  on  every  side,  an  exclusive- 
ness  which  is,  as  it  were,  occult,  and  which  the 
Faubourg  St.-Germain  knows  how  to  wield  in  a  way 
that  keeps  people  at  a  distance  better  than  words  or 
deeds. 

The  French  aristocracy,  whatever  may  be  said  to  the 
contrary,  is  still  an  extremely  rigid  caste.  It  is 
morally  closed  to  foreigners,  even  when  they  have 
entered  it  by  marriage.  They  are  distrusted  and  con- 
versation is  carried  on  in  corners  when  they  are  pre- 
sent. It  is  practically  closed,  too,  to  writers  and 
artists,  under  the  pretext  that  their  manners  are  not 
always  everything  that  could  be  desired,  but,  in  reality 
because  another  La  Bruy^re,  or  Beaumarchais  would 
not  be  welcome.  The  grande  dame  of  the  nineteenth 
century  will  be  missing  in  the  human  gallery,  thanks 
to  a  lack  of  documents.  The  Faubourg  St.-Germain 
has  tired  out  the  inquisitiveness  of  every  one,  even  that 
of  journalists.  The  domestics  are  incorruptible,  as 
they  are  part  of  the  family.  Only  God  and  the  devil 
know  the  virtue  and  vice  behind  its  closed  ^ates.  It 
is  quite  certain  that  a  very  virtuous  and  very  devout 
set  of  people  exists  among  this  aristocracy,  a  set  of 
people  extremely  behind  the  times.  There  also  exists 
a  very  cynical,  corrupt,  and  extremely  modern  set. 
These  two  sets  see,  and  visit,  each  other,  constantly. 

Thanks  to  the  spirit  of  caste,  and  thanks  to  tradi- 
tions common  to  them  both  and  to  good  education,  a 


AMERICAN  NOBILITY  345 

certain  cohesion  is  maintained  between  them.  Annie 
was  naturally  puzzled  amid  such  complex  surround- 
ings. She  did  not  understand  the  great  devotion  of  the 
Mothers  of  the  Church  and  she  was  amazed  at  the 
proceedings  of  some  of  the  society  w^omen.  She  had 
great  difficulty,  therefore,  in  finding  her  level.  Nothing 
would  have  persuaded  her  to  help  forward  a  Franco- 
American  marriage.  Influenced  by  unconscious  re- 
sentment, she  had  even  endeavoured  to  warn  some  of 
her  countrywomen  about  certain  interested  designs. 
They  had  answered  her :  "  We  know  all  about  it.  We 
are  not  going  to  marry,  but  we  let  these  people  hope. 
They  invite  us,  introduce  us,  and  make  a  great  deal 
of  us  and  it  is  great  fun."  Annie  had  been  disgusted 
at  this  way  of  acting  and  had  now  taken  refuge  in 
strict  neutrality. 

The  American  woman  generally  knows  how  to  dis- 
pense hospitality  and  the  young  Marchioness  made  her 
home  very  pleasant  for  her  husband  and  his  friends. 
There  was  a  kind  of  informality,  which  is  always 
appreciated  by  bachelors,  old  and  young.  In  a  very 
short  time,  Annie  had  formed  a  little  circle  of  intimate 
friends,  composed  of  a  few  agreeable  men  and  charming 
women.  Every  week,  like  Madame  de  Keradieu,  she 
invited  a  chosen  few  of  their  friends  to  dinner.  These 
little  dinners  and  the  time  spent  at  Blonay  consoled 
her  for  many  other  disappointments. 

Blonay  was  a  source  of  real  satisfaction  to  her.  She 
felt  herself  some  one  there.  Her  mother-in-law  and  the 
priest,  with  an  intelligent  comprehension  of  American 
character,  left  her  all  the  initiative.  Under  her  gen- 
erous impulsion,  many  transformations  had  taken 
place.  The  schools  were  now  enlarged  and  modern- 
ised.    The    agricultural    orphanage,    little    Philippe's 


346  AMERICAN  NOBILITY 

gift,  was  nearly  ready  and  in  the  little  town  and  the 
surrounding  villages,  clean,  white  houses,  with  bright 
window-panes,  and  flowers,  were  to  be  seen.  The 
Mayor  was  extremely  republican  in  his  ideas  and  an 
anti-clericalist,  and  Annie  had  asked  him  to  help  her 
in  her  improvement  scheme,  in  order  that  he  should 
not  hinder  her.  She  had  acted  rather  against  Jacques' 
wishes  in  this  matter,  but  the  result  was  satisfactory. 
The  Mayor  had  been  flattered  and  had  done  all  in  his 
power  to  further  her  plans.  Annie  had  learned,  too, 
how  to  talk  to  the  peasants  and  to  the  poor,  so  that 
they  no  longer  called  her  "  the  American  lady,"  but 
"  our  lady,"  and  this  gave  her  very  real  pleasure.  The 
good  she  was  doing  at  Blonay,  and  her  ever-increasing 
popularity,  made  the  place  dearer  to  her,  so  that  she 
was  always  sorry  to  leave  it. 

There  was  something  in  the  very  air  of  Paris  which 
irritated  her.  It  was  as  though  she  had  been  affected 
there,  more  than  anywhere  else,  by  those  sentiments 
around  her  which  threatened  her  happiness. 


CHAPTER  XVT 

In  the  solemn  town  house  of  the  Anguilhons,  to 
which  her  destiny  had  led  her,  Annie  had  arranged  a 
nook  for  herself,  in  accordance  with  her  own  taste  and 
education.  This  nook,  which  was  her  favourite  retreat, 
and  in  which  she  received  her  intimate  friends,  was  a 
drawing-room  at  the  end  of  the  suite  of  reception-rooms. 
It  opened  into  the  garden  and  into  a  conservatory. 
She  had  any  number  of  pretty  knick-knacks  here,  her 
piano,  the  newspapers  and  reviews  of  her  country, 
beautiful  flowers,  and  pictures  by  American  artists 
only:  Walter  Gay,  Harrison,  Sargent,  and  Stoddert. 
She  had  transformed  the  conservatory  into  a  charming 
drawing-room  with  tall  plants  to  hide  the  walls.  It 
was  furnished  with  sofas,  Louis  XVI  armchairs  of 
gilded  cane,  and  half  a  dozen  of  the  famous  rocking- 
chairs  from  New  York,  finished  with  pretty  cushions 
tied  on  with  ribbon.  One  of  these  chairs  was  the 
exclusive  property  of  the  Viscount  de  Nozay.  The  two 
rooms  were  quite  near  to  the  billiard-  and  smoking- 
rooms.  One  Thursday  evening,  after  an  informal 
dinner,  Annie  and  her  guests  were  sitting  here  chat- 
ting, before  beginning  to  play  poker. 

The  Prince  de  Nolles,  happening  to  see  Guy  de 
Maupassant's  Notre  Cceur  lying  on  a  table,  took  it  up 
and  began  to  look  at  it. 

"  Do  you  like  French  novels,  Madame  d'Anguilhon?  " 
he  asked. 

347 


348  AMERICAN  NOBILITY 

"  Candidly  no,"  answered  Annie.  "  I  read  them  for 
the  sake  of  being  au  courant  and  also  for  the  sake  of 
the  language.  Half  the  time,  though,  I  neither  under- 
stand the  people  nor  the  sentiments.  Then,  too,  it 
irritates  me  to  see  people  always  wanting  the  impos- 
sible and  contriving  to  make  themselves  unhappy.  You 
all  seem  to  me  like  the  child  who  cried  for  the  moon 
— or  the  sun,  I  forget  which." 

"  The  moon,  the  moon,"  said  Guy  de  Nozay,  laughing. 

"  Well,  we  Americans  only  want  things  that  are  to 
be  found  in  this  world." 

"  Yes,  but  the  rarest,  the  most  beautiful,  and  the 
most  costly,"  put  in  Monsieur  de  Keradieu.  "  You 
want,  for  instance,  a  faithful  husband,  children  who 
grow  up  without  any  trouble,  an  absolutely  comfort- 
able home,  finery,  jewelry,  amusement,  travelling — and 
all  the  rest  of  it." 

"  Yes,  but  then,  we  are  satisfied  with  that,  and  even 
with  much  less  than  all  that,  I  assure  you.  French- 
women who  live  in  the  same  place  always,  are  bound 
down  by  habit  and  all  kinds  of  things.  They  only 
travel  up  in  the  clouds  and  they  dream  of  the  newest 
and  most  extraordinary  kind  of  love  and  sigh  for 
heaven  itself.  If  they  would  just  do  as  we  do,  pack 
their  trunks  and  travel  round  a  little  on  earth,  they 
would  be  quite  astonished  to  find  it  so  beautiful  and 
so  interesting  and  they  would  be  quite  satisfied  with 
it.  Why,  life  is  not  half  long  enough  to  see  a  quarter 
of  the  fine  things  our  planet  contains." 

Every  one  laughed  at  this  tirade. 

"  What  a  little  materialist  you  are ! "  exclaimed 
Monsieur  de  Keradieu. 

"  A  regular  lover  of  the  earth,"  said  the  Viscount  de 
Nozay.    "  I  am  sure  that  America,  which  has  already 


AMERICAN  NOBILITY  349 

taught  us  so  many  things,  will  teach  us  the  art  of 
being  happy  here  below." 

"  I  should  not  be  in  the  least  astonished,"  put  in 
Jacques.  As  he  was  standing  by  the  chimney-piece, 
near  Annie,  he  laid  his  hand  on  her  head. 

"  There  is  much  more  wisdom  than  one  would 
imagine  in  these  American  brains,"  he  said,  jokingly. 

At  the  sight  of  this  little  familiarity,  the  Duchess 
drew  herself  up  involuntarily  and  clenched  the  arms 
of  her  chair,  in  order  to  restrain  herself.  Fortunately 
she  was  sitting  a  little  back  and  the  lampshade  threw 
a  shadow  over  her  face,  so  that  no  one  saw  her  move- 
ment, nor  yet  the  evil  expression  that  came  into  her 
eyes. 

"  We  really  do  not  feel  those  extraordinary  senti- 
ments described  at  such  length  in  your  books,"  con- 
tinued Annie.  "  I  have  often  wondered  whether  they 
are  really  felt,  or  whether  they  are  simply  invented, 
by  way  of  producing  a  little  effect  in  your  literature. 
At  any  rate,  I  fancy  you  are  much  more  complex  than 
we  are." 

*'  We  are  old,  alas,"  said  the  Prince  de  Nolles,  "  so 
old,  indeed,  that  many  things  seem  to  us  to  have 
already  been  seen  and  felt.  It  is  on  this  impression 
that  those  people  base  their  theory  who  believe  that 
we  have  lived  several  times  in  this  world.  In  reality, 
it  is  not  we  who  have  lived  here,  but  those  whom  we 
are  continuing.     You  Americans  are  still  young." 

"  Young  I  "  exclaimed  Madame  de  Keradieu,  "  I  do 
not  know  why  people  always  say  that.  We,  too,  were 
existing,  either  in  Holland,  Scotland,  England,  France, 
or  Spain." 

"  Yes,  but  then  you  were  transplanted  on  virgin  soil," 
answered  the  Prince.    "  Liberty,  effort,  and  struggles 


350  AMERICAN  NOBILITY 

have  confused  or  obliterated  all  traces  of  the  old  races. 
You  are  essentially  a  new  race  and  one  that  is  still 
in  the  period  of  activity." 

"  And  what  activity  I "  said  Monsieur  de  Keradieu. 
"  When  I  return  to  Europe,  after  a  few  months  in  the 
United  States,  it  always  seems  to  me  as  though  every- 
thing were  petrified.  If  immigration  were  not  con- 
stantly renewing  the  blood  and  the  forces  of  the  great 
American  body,  it  would  simply  be  burnt  out  and 
perish  by  the  very  feverishness  of  its  ambition.  The 
field  of  labour  is  strewn  with  worn-out,  exhausted  men. 
Their  offspring  lack  sap,  even  in  the  second  generation. 
The  strain  which  women  endure,  in  order  to  vie  with 
each  other  in  their  amusements,  has  already  begun  to 
take  effect.  Society  women  care  less  and  less  for 
works  of  art  and  for  the  memories  of  the  Old  World. 
They  come  to  Europe  now  in  search  of  fresh  pleasure, 
and  they  complain  of  everything  and  think  there  is 
nothing  good  or  beautiful  outside  their  own  country. 
As  soon  as  they  are  once  back  in  America,  though,  they 
find  some  fresh  pretext  for  leaving  their  husbands  and 
their  homes  once  more  and  starting  again.  Am  I  not 
right,  Antoinette?" 

"  Alas,  yes,"  answered  Madame  de  Keradieu. 

"  And  I  maintain,  too,  that  if  Europe  were  not  such 
an  excellent  safety-valve,  there  would  be  more  unhappy 
husbands  than  there  are  in  the  United  States.  There 
are  a  fair  number  of  them  at  present.  For  some 
little  time,  every  man  has  seemed  to  be  coveting  his 
neighbour's  wife." 

"  Oh,  you  are  abominable,"  said  Annie,  "  a  nice  idea 
you  will  give  Jacques  of  America.  Fortunately  he  will 
soon  be  able  to  judge  for  himself." 

"  When  are  you  taking  him  off  ?  " 


AMERICAN  NOBILITY  351 

"  On  the  first  of  July,  if  Heaven  will  only  help  me. 
Our  visit  to  America  has  been  put  off  so  many  times, 
that  I  scarcely  dare  believe  we  shall  go  even  now.  I 
cannot  see  anything  to  prevent  it  though,  now.  We 
shall  not  come  back  before  October.  I  want  my  hus- 
band to  see  America  in  its  best  season  and  that  is, 
certainly,  the  autumn." 

Madame  de  Blanzac's  face  turned  livid  on  hearing 
these  words.  She  tried  to  catch  Jacques'  eye,  but  he, 
manlike,  was  looking  another  way. 

"  I  am  convinced  that  America  will  interest  you," 
said  Monsieur  de  Keradieu  to  him.  "  You  will  see  a 
real  republic,  states  organised  on  the  famous  principle 
of  *  one  for  all.'  You  will  see  a  free  country,  where 
the  Arab  can  spread  his  '  prayer-carpet '  and  the 
Catholic  build  his  cathedral  without  any  interference, 
and  where  private  initiative  is  given  free  scope.  It  is 
really  worth  the  journey  to  see  all  that.  Our  European 
liberty  will  seem  meagre  to  you  afterwards.  It  will 
be  like  the  Bartholdi  statue,  which  looks  gigantic  in 
Paris,  whilst  in  the  bay  of  New  York  it  appears  to 
be  of  almost  paltry  dimensions." 

"  By  the  way,"  said  the  Count  de  Ressac,  "  I  must 
tell  you  that  Monsieur  and  Madame  de  Rennes  are 
marrying  again." 

"  Who  is  Madame  de  Rennes  ?  "  asked  Annie. 

"  A  charming  woman,  whose  husband,  after  a  season 
at  Biarritz  three  years  ago,  went  off  with  a  certain 
Mrs.  Nelson,  one  of  your  countrywomen.  He  came  to 
Paris  to  try  to  obtain  a  divorce.  His  family  and 
friends  intervened  and  gave  him  to  understand  that 
his  wife  was  inclined  to  forgive  him.  His  uncle  went 
to  see  Mrs.  Nelson  and  preached  duty  to  her.  She 
consented  to  give  up  her  lover.      An  interview  was 


352  AMERICAN  NOBILITY 

arranged  between  the  husband  and  wife.  They 
fell  into  each  other's  arms  and  the  conclusion  is 
that  they  are  to  go  to  Italy  on  their  second  honey- 
moon." 

"  Well,  that  is  a  thing,  now,  that  no  American  woman 
would  agree  to  or  would  ever  be  able  to  understand," 
said  Annie. 

"  Madame  de  Rennes  was  very  much  in  love  with 
her  husband.  It  is  more  easy  to  forgive  any  one  we 
love." 

"  Is  it  possible  to  love  without  esteem  and  without 
perfect  trust  ?  " 

"  Alas,  yes,"  said  the  Viscount  de  Nozay,  with  a  very 
droll  expression.  "It  is  that  which  constitutes  the 
strength  and  the  weakness  of  love." 

"  The  strength  and  the  weakness  of  love,"  repeated 
Annie,  knitting  her  eyebrows,  in  her  effort  to  think. 
"  It  is  too  subtle  for  me." 

"  Do  you  not  admit,"  put  in  Monsieur  de  Nolles, 
"  that,  in  a  city  like  Paris,  men  of  leisure  are  exposed 
to  more  temptations  and  to  greater  ones  than 
elsewhere  ?  " 

"  Yes,  but  honour  would  not  be  honour  if  it  cost 
nothing." 

"  You  are  rather  severe,  Madame,  but  logical,"  re- 
plied the  Prince. 

"  There  would  be  a  fair  number  of  homes  broken 
up  and  disunited  families,  if  French  women  could  not 
forgive,"  said  Monsieur  de  Ressac. 

"  Well,  I  think  French  women  are  wrong  in  that," 
said  Annie,  in  a  decided  tone.  "  They  simply  en- 
courage unfaithfulness.  With  us,  the  men  know  that 
if  they  are  unfaithful  to  their  wife,  there  is  no  pity 
nor  indulgence  for  them,  either  from  her  or  from  the 


AMERICAN  NOBILITY  353 

world  at  large.  They  think  twice  before  sacrificing 
their  tranquillity  and  their  position." 

"  Oh,  there  is  no  doubt  about  it,"  said  Monsieur  de 
Keradieu,  laughing.  "  American  women  are  very  clever. 
They  know  how  to  educate  their  husbands." 

"  Yes,  and  they  do  not  have  much  difficulty  about 
it  either,"  said  Annie,  seriously.  "  We  have  a  title  of 
nobility,  of  moral  nobility,  which  cannot  be  inherited 
and  can  only  be  obtained  by  merit.  It  is  the  title  of 
gentleman  or  lady,  and  it  is  only  given  to  those  who 
respect  themselves  and  others.  We  should  no  longer 
consider  the  man  a  gentleman  who  had  been  unfaithful 
to  his  wife,  and  the  fear  of  this  disgrace  acts  as  a 
powerful  check.  Those  two  words,  gentleman  and 
lady,  have  done  more  towards  civilising  and  moralising 
our  country  than  all  the  religions  and  all  the 
codes." 

"  What  you  say  is  perfectly  true,"  said  Monsieur  de 
Keradieu.  "  It  is  a  pity  that  we  have  no  equivalent  for 
gentleman  and  lady.  Our  words  gentilhomme  and 
grande  dame  merely  designate  titled  people." 

"  Well,  you  should  get  into  the  habit  of  extending 
them  to  the  people  who  have  nobility  of  character  and 
sentiment,  for  that  is  the  real  nobility,  after  all,"  added 
Annie,  boldly.  "  That  would  help  your  evolution. 
Why,  even  among  the  animals,  especially  dogs  and 
horses,  there  are  some  that  look,  and  really  are,  gentle- 
men. The  little  Jersey  cows,  so  clean  and  delicately 
formed,  always  seem  to  me  like  little  ladies." 

Every  one  laughed  at  this  sally  and  at  the  serious- 
ness with  which  she  spoke. 

"  Oh,  Annie,  Annie,  how  American  you  are ! "  said 
Jacques. 

"  And  I  am  proud  of  it." 

23 


354  AMERICAN  NOBILITY 

"  You  are  quite  right,"  said  the  Prince  de  Nolles, 
gravely. 

"  By  the  way,  Ressac,  you  did  not  tell  us  what  has 
become  of  Mrs.  Nelson?  "  asked  Monsieur  de  Keradien. 

"  For  the  time  being,  she  is  in  a  convent  at  St.  Jean 
de  Luz." 

«  She  is  a  Catholic,  then?  " 

'*  Apparently.  Her  husband  has  married  again  and 
has  kept  the  two  children  with  him.  One  cannot  helj» 
wondering  what  Rennes  really  ought  to  have  done. 
Ought  he  to  have  married  Mrs.  Nelson,  whom  his 
desertion  now  leaves  without  protection,  or  ought  he 
to  return  to  his  wife,  who  has  her  family,  her  children, 
and  a  position  in  the  world  ?  " 

"  He  ought  to  return  to  his  wife,  undoubtedly,"  said 
Monsieur  de  Keradieu.  "  Individuals  do  not  count 
when  it  is  a  question  of  principle.  Mrs.  Nelson  put 
herself  beyond  the  pale  of  the  law.  She  is  the  one 
who  ought  to  be  sacrificed." 

"  And  I  do  not  pity  her  at  all,"  said  Annie.  "  The 
only  thing  I  regret  is  that  her  accomplice  should  get 
off  so  easily." 

The  young  Marchioness  had,  as  yet,  no  suspicion  of 
the  truth,  but  for  the  last  few  months,  whenever  she 
had  heard  of  any  husband's  unfaithfulness,  she  had 
felt  a  sort  of  suffering  and  irritation,  as  though  she 
herself  were  affected  by  it.  On  this  particular  even- 
ing, it  was  as  though  some  one  had  taken  up  the 
cudgels  for  Annie,  in  order  to  punish  those  who  were 
deceiving  her.  The  conversation  had  tortured  Jacques 
and  had  pierced  Christiane's  heart  with  cruel  shafts. 
Her  pride  had  been  ruthlessly  trampled  on.  Guy  de 
Nozay,  guessing  what  the  Duchess  must  be  undergoing, 
had  not  dared  to  look  at  her.     In  order  to  put  an  end 


AMERICAN  NOBILITY  355 

to  the  conversation,  he  suggested  that  they  should 
begin  playing  poker.  When  they  were  all  taking 
their  places  at  the  card-table,  Madame  de  Blanzae 
said  to  Annie,  in  a  voice  as  changed  as  was  her 
face: 

"  I  am  afraid  I  shall  be  obliged  to  leave  you,  for 
I  have  such  a  terrible  headache." 

"  Really  ?  "  said  her  hostess,  anxiously.  "  Why,  yes, 
you  are  quite  pale.  I  ought  to  have  noticed  instead 
of  chattering  so  much.  Please  forgive  me.  What  can 
T  give  you  for  it?" 

"  Nothing,  thanks.  I  only  need  rest.  I  shall  be 
right  again  to-morrow." 

"  T  hope  so,  indeed.    Jacques  will  take  you  home." 

This  was  exactly  what  Christiane  had  wanted.  She 
could  not  have  restrained  the  anger  and  grief  much 
longer  which  the  announcement  of  this  visit  to  America 
had  aroused  within  her.  The  Marquis  and  she  left  the 
house  together. 

"  I  want  to  walk  a  little,"  she  said,  as  soon  as  they 
were  out  in  the  street. 

It  was  half  past  ten  and  the  Rue  de  Varenne  was 
absolutely  deserted.  Jacques  took  Christiane's  arm 
and  pressed  it  against  him. 

"  My  darling,"  he  murmured,  gently. 

The  tenderness  in  his  voice  was  lost  on  Madame  de 
Rlanzac.  She  was  too  much  irritated  to  be  appeased 
by  that,  at  the  present  moment. 

"  And  so  you  are  going  to  America  on  the  first  of 
July,  and  it  is  simply  by  chance  that  I  hear  of  it," 
she  said,  in  a  hard  voice. 

"  I  had  heard  nothing  about  it  myself,  yesterday," 
he  answered.  "  This  morning,  Annie  received  a  letter 
from  her  lawyer,  who  wishes  to  consult  us  about  some 


356  AMERICAN  NOBILITY 

investments  and  sales  of  land.  I  told  her  we  might 
be  able  to  start  on  the  first  of  July  and  she  is  striking 
the  iron  while  it  is  hot.  This  visit  has  been  on  my 
mind  for  a  long  time.  It  is  as  painful  to  me  as  it 
is  to  you." 

"Are  you  sure  it  is?"  asked  Christiane,  with  sup- 
pressed feeling. 

"  Sure  ?  As  sure  as  I  am  that  I  love  you,"  answered 
Jacques,  passionately.  "  You  do  not  doubt  that  and 
you  cannot  doubt  it.  Thanks  to  a  happy  combination 
of  circumstances,  I  have  been  able  to  postpone  this 
visit  which  I  promised  to  Mrs.  Villars.  I  cannot  put 
it  off,  though,  indefinitely.  It  would  be  put  down  to 
deliberate  intention  on  my  part,  and  suspicion  would 
be  aroused  as  to  what  was  keeping  me  in  Paris.  I 
must  make  the  sacrifice,  I  feel  that.  You  ought  to 
give  me  courage  for  it,  Christiane,  for  you  are  not  like 
an  ordinary  woman." 

"  Poor  women,  who  are  not  like  the  ordinary  ones," 
said  the  Duchess,  with  a  forced  laugh.  "  What  heavy 
burdens  God  and  men  put  on  their  shoulders!  I  do 
not  think  the  moral  force  exists  which  can  conquer 
jealousy,  and  jealousy  is  to  love  what  death  is  to  life. 
The  more  highly  organised  we  are,  the  more  subtle 
and  painful  is  this  feeling.  This  evening,  for  instance, 
when  you  laid  your  hand  on  Annie's  head,  I  nearly 
cried  out " 

The  Marquis  stopped  short  and  looked  at  the 
Duchess.  Under  the  drawn  hood  of  her  cloak,  he  saw 
her  pale  face  with  features  drawn  by  passion,  her 
sombre,  shining  eyes,  her  quivering  nostrils,  and  trem- 
bling lips.  This  expression,  which  he  had  never  before 
seen,  startled  and  alarmed  him. 

"  Oh,  Christiane,"  he  said,  "  is  it  really  you  saying 


AMERICAN  NOBILITY  357 

that?  What  I  give  to  Annie  is  very  little  in  com- 
parison with  what  I  give  to  you." 

"Very  little?  The  love  of  a  husband?  You  should 
leave  novelists  to  say  that.  Do  you  call  it  very  little, 
that  sentiment  which  makes  of  two  creatures  one? 
Why,  the  family  and  the  whole  of  society  is  based  on 
it.  What  nonsense!  Annie  will  always  remain  with 
you;  it  is  her  right.  As  for  me,  I  am  destined  to 
disappear,  like  that  poor  Mrs.  Nelson.  You  heard 
what  Monsieur  de  Keradieu  said :  *  Individuals  do 
not  count  when  it  is  a  question  of  principle.'  And  he 
is  quite  right,  too.  It  must  be  like  that.  Laws  will 
not  be  changed  for  me.  And  then,  too,  you  cannot 
deny  that  Annie  is  very  dear  to  you." 

"  No,  I  will  not  deny  it,"  replied  the  Marquis, 
bravely.  "  I  should  have  grown  to  hate  any  woman, 
who,  because  she  had  brought  me  money,  proved  to  be 
tyrannical  or  exacting.  You  know  yourself,  though, 
how  considerate  and  tactful  Annie  has  always  been. 
You  have  frequently  praised  her  to  me.  She  is  satis- 
fied with  everything,  respects  my  liberty,  and  thinks 
of  nothing  but  making  me  happy.  I  should  have  to 
be  absolutely  incapable  of  good  feeling  of  any  kind 
if  I  did  not  care  for  her.  This  affection  is  of  a  totally 
different  essence  from  my  love  for  you." 

"  What  should  you  say  if  I  were  to  go  away  with 
an  agreeable  young  husband  and  remain  absent  for 
three  or  four  months?" 

"The  probability  is  that  I  should  not  be  able  to 
bear  it,"  said  Jacques,  with  a  tender  look.  "  I  should 
most  likely  follow  you,  at  any  cost.  A  man  is  always 
less  married,  though,  than  a  woman.  He  belongs  to 
himself  much  more —  Oh,  my  darling,"  added  Jacques, 
in  the  midst  of  his  sentence,  "  try  to  forget  certain 


358  AMERICAN  NOBILITY 

things  and  to  be  above  all  petty  jealousy.  Your 
nobility  of  character  will  make  that  possible  for  you, 
even  if  it  should  not  be  easy." 

"You  are  quite  mistaken;  I  have  neither  any  hero- 
ism, nor  yet  any  nobility  of  character,"  replied  Madame 
de  Blanzac,  sadly.  "  I  knew  that  love  outside  our 
social  conventions  must  be  painful,  but  I  had  never 
imagined  anything  as  cruel " 

Jacques  pressed  the  arm  lying  on  his  arm. 

"And  what  about  our  happiness?  Had  you  imag- 
ined that  as  great?"  he  asked,  in  a  voice  that  brought 
back  to  Christiane's  mind  the  memory  of  the  bliss  they 
had  experienced. 

"  No,"  she  answered,  quietly. 

"  Well,  everything  has  to  be  bought  and  paid  for. 
If  you  and  I  had  been  married  for  the  last  two  years, 
I  should  neither  see  you  nor  feel  you  as  I  do  now." 

"  Because  I  should  be  a  part  of  yourself." 

"  Yes,  you  would  be  ray  wife,  but  you  would  no 
longer  be  the  woman,  the  eternal  woman  that  man 
adores,  the  woman  who  is  in  his  dreams  quite  as  much 
as  in  his  life,  who  makes  him  feel  his  power  and  his 
weakness.  You  would  no  longer  be  that,  and  it  would 
be  a  pity." 

"  And  you  intend  staying  in  America  until  the  end 
of  October?"  asked  Christiane,  the  torturing  thought 
of  Jacques'  absence  taking  possession  of  her  again. 

"  No,  I  shall  contrive  to  have  some  business  which 
will  necessitate  my  returning  in  September  and  I  shall 
leave  Annie  with  her  mother,  who  will  then  bring  her 
back  to  Europe.  Did  you  imagine  that  I  could  live 
four  months  away  from  you?  Then,  too,  between  now 
and  the  end  of  June,  so  many  things  may  happen. 
You  know  how  dearly  I  love  you,  how  close  and  how 


AMERICAN  NOBILITY  359 

deep  our  union  is.  That,  Christiana,  ought  to  make 
your  mind  inaccessible  to  certain  fears.  Our  love  is 
as  dear  to  me  as  it  is  to  j'ou  and  I  shall  do  nothing 
that  would  be  an  insult  to  it." 

Christiane  breathed  more  freely. 

"  You  have  taken  a  load  off  my  mind,"  she  said. 

"  Why  did  you  hide  from  me  all  these  ideas  that 
have  been  troubling  you?"  asked  the  Marquis,  in  a 
reproachful  tone. 

"  Out  of  pride  and  delicacy.  I  honestly  thought 
that  I  was  above  all  this.  Ah,  I  have  had  an  oppor- 
tunity of  judging  for  myself  how  much  I  was  above 
it.  Take  my  word  for  it,  love  is  not  the  noblest  senti- 
ment of  our  nature;  there  is  too  much  instinct  mixed 
with  it,  too  much  animality.  It  is  only  really  great 
in  our  dreams  of  it." 

As  he  said  this,  they  had  just  reached  the  door  of 
her  house. 

"  I  must  go  in  now,"  she  said,  stopping  and  trying 
to  free  her  arm,  which  Jacques  still  held. 

"  Tell  me  that  you  are  satisfied  and  happy — and 
cured,"  he  said. 

"  For  the  present  moment,  yes,  quite." 

In  her  long  cloak,  with  the  hood  drawn  up,  there 
was  something  both  alluring  and  mysterious  about 
the  Duchess.  The  Marquis  gazed  in  admiration  at  her 
face,  which  was  now  serene  once  more  and  spiritual- 
ised, as  it  were.  Under  the  half-open  mantle,  he  saw 
the  beautiful  outlines  of  her  figure,  in  its  closely 
fitting  dress  of  soft,  gleaming  satin. 

"  I  should  like  to  carry  you  off,"  he  said,  in  a  tone 
that  had  suddenly  changed. 

"  Then  I  nuist  ring  for  help,"  said  Madame  de 
Blanzac,  putting  her  finger  on  the  bell-knob. 


360  AMERICAN  NOBILITY 

When  the  gate  opened,  she  would  not  allow  the 
Marquis  to  go  any  further  with  her,  but  she  left  him 
with  a  feeling  of  triumphant  joy  in  her  heart,  know- 
ing that  she  had  won  him  back. 

She  had  scarcely  disappeared  when  the  expression 
on  the  Marquis's  face  changed  completely.  He  did  not 
go  home  immediately,  but  began  to  walk  slowly  up  and 
down,  with  his  head  lowered  and  his  eyes  fixed  on 
the  ground,  thinking  over  what  had  just  taken  place. 
As  he  recalled  the  Duchess's  words,  his  anxiety  in- 
creased. She  was  jealous  of  Annie.  He  had  managed 
to  appease  her  for  to-day,  but  would  he  be  able  to  do 
so  to-morrow  and — always?  Would  not  this  jealousy 
lead  to  a  clash  between  the  two  women,  as  they  met 
nearly  every  day?  Christiane  must  really  have  been 
carried  away  by  her  feelings  to  have  been  conscious 
of  her  weakness,  and  to  have  owned  to  it.  At  the 
bare  thought  of  all  this,  Jacques  shuddered.  He  did  not 
dare  even  think  of  the  consequences  of  the  discovery  of 
his  liaison.  He  tried  to  fancy  that  such  a  thing  was 
impossible.  He  could  not  recover  his  equanimity 
though,  and  he  said  to  himself  that  he  would  have 
to  be  on  his  guard. 

"  They  are  all  the  same,"  he  said  to  himself,  with 
a  feeling  of  anger  and  disappointment. 

When  he  reappeared  among  his  guests,  poker  was 
at  its  height. 

"  I  thought  you  were  lost,  Jacques,"  said  Annie, 
gaily. 

"  I  insisted  on  Madame  de  Blanzae  having  a  little 
fresh  air  before  she  went  in.  It  is  such  a  lovely  night 
and  so  I  persuaded  her  to  take  a  little  stroll.  Just 
at  this  hour,  the  Faubourg  looks  most  curious.  It  is 
like  a  dream-city,  with  its  long,  deserted  streets,  all 


AMERICAN  NOBILITY  361 

white  in  the  moonlight,  its  silent  houses,  and  the  rats 
going  in  and  out  of  the  drains.     It  is  most  fantastic." 

For  this  little  description,  the  Marquis  must  have 
been  making  use  of  impressions  already  stored  in  his 
mind,  for  he  had  certainly  only  seen  the  Duchess  on 
this  particular  evening. 

Guy  looked  up  and  his  eye-glass  fell  from  its  orbit. 
A  sly  smile  made  his  moustache  bristle  as  he  glanced 
at  his  friend  with  a  mixture  of  anger  and  admiration. 
This  picture,  sketched  with  such  careless  ease,  and 
particularly  the  realistic  touch  of  the  rats  going  in 
and  out  of  the  drains,  seemed  to  him  the  climax  of 
rascality  and  cleverness. 

"  Oh,  those  rats,  those  rats ! "  he  repeated  in  a  comic 
way,  but  in  a  tone  that  proved  to  the  Marquis  that 
he,  at  any  rate,  was  not  duped. 


CHAPTER  XVII 

There  was  a  dance  at  the  Anguilhons'.  The  young 
Marchioness  had  sent  out  invitations  to  a  simple 
cotillon,  but  it  was  a  cotillon  for  which  greenhouses, 
gardens,  and  even  woods  had  had  to  contribute,  for 
there  were  wreaths,  chains,  rings,  bunches,  and  sheaves 
of  spring  flowers.  All  kinds  of  flowers  were  there, 
from  the  rose  to  the  simple  violet.  The  cost  of  it  all 
must  have  been  a  small  fortune. 

The  Viscount  de  Nozay  and  Annie,  who  had  been 
dancing  together,  were  just  resting  a  few  moments. 

"  They  are  enjoying  themselves !  "  said  Guy,  glancing 
around  him. 

"  Thank  Heaven !  I  never  breathe  freely  until  I  see 
a  little  animation  among  my  guests,  until  I  begin  to 
feel  the  success,  as  you  say  in  French." 

"  Well,  you  can  breathe  freely  now.  The  animation 
has  begun  and  it  would  be  difficult  to  stop  it.  Challans 
has  the  knack  of  giving  the  start.  How  pretty  it  is 
with  the  flowers  on  all  the  women's  shoulders,  hands, 
and  arms !  The  flowers  themselves  look  as  though  they 
are  living  and  animated  by  the  music.  I  am  sure  the 
idea  of  this  cotillon  is  one  of  yours." 

"  Yes,  but  Madame  d'Anguilhon,  the  Duchess,  and 
Jacques  helped  me  to  organise  everything.  It  has  been 
such  fun.  Just  look  at  Madame  de  Blanzac!  How 
beautiful  she  is !     I  would  give  anything  to  be  like  her." 

362 


AMERICAN  NOBILITY  363 

"  And  she  would,  no  doubt,  give  a  great  deal  to  have 
your  youth.  Without  flattery,  I  do  not  think  you 
need  envy  any  one.  One  should  neither  overestimate 
nor  undervalue  one's  own  worth." 

"  I  once  had  a  fairly  good  opinion  of  myself,"  said 
Annie,  laughing.  "  I  used  to  be  so  much  admired  and 
spoilt,  but  since  I  have  been  in  Europe  I  have  come 
down  a  little  in  my  own  estimation.  I  quite  realise 
that  French  women  have  a  peculiar  charm  that  I  shall 
never  have,  a  charm  that  is  due  to  race,  education,  or 
to  some  other  cause.  I  feel  a  regular  baby  beside  them 
and  I  am  always  afraid  that  Jacques  will,  in  the  long 
run,  think  I  am  insipid.  I  am  only  surprised  that  he 
should  ever  have  given  me  a  thought." 

Surprised  that  Jacques  should  have  given  a  thought 
to  her,  when  she  had  a  dowry  of  sixty  million  francs ! 
Guy  looked  at  the  young  Marchioness,  with  an  ex- 
pression of  mingled  pity  and  admiration. 

"  She  must  have  been  created  specially,  money  and 
all,  for  that  rascal,  Jacques ! "  he  said  to  himself,  half 
angrily. 

On  the  other  side  of  a  great  mass  of  plants,  to  the 
right  of  Annie,  two  men  were  chatting  idly  about  the 
various  people  they  were  watching. 

"  Just  look  at  Anguilhon  and  Madame  de  Blanzac," 
said  one  of  them.  "What  a  fine  couple  they  make! 
Two  aristocrats  there,  and  no  mistake." 

"  More  or  less.  The  Duchess's  father  was  the  son 
of  a  peasant." 

"  Really  ?  Well,  with  women  one  never  knows.  At 
any  rate,  on  the  Arangay  side  of  her  family  there  was 
aristocracy  enough  to  make  up  for  that.  I  have  often 
wondered  why  Anguilhon  and  Madame  de  Blanzac  did 
not  marry." 


364  AMERICAN  NOBILITY 

"A  question  of  money,  probably." 

"Well,  it  was  a  pity.  They  look  as  though  they 
were  made  for  each  other.  They  always  give  me  the 
impression  that  they  either  have  been  in  love  with 
each  other,  or  that  they  will  be,  some  day.  They  ap- 
pear to  be  on  the  best  of  terms,  at  any  rate.  The 
Marchioness  must  be  of  a  very  unsuspicious  nature 
and  she  is  certainly  very  imprudent." 

Annie  overheard  the  whole  of  this  conversation. 
Just  at  first,  nothing  troubled  her,  except  the  words 
"  made  for  each  other."  She  looked  at  her  husband 
and  then  at  the  Duchess.  They  seemed  to  be  dancing 
in  a  strange  way,  at  one  moment  with  a  languorous 
step  and  then,  all  at  once,  with  great  vivacity.  As 
she  watched  them,  she  felt  less  and  less  joyful  and 
her  heart  sank.  They  certainly  did  look  as  though 
they  had  been  made  for  each  other.  She  remembered 
that  Clara  had  said  the  same  thing.  Annie  did  not 
regain  her  serenity  all  the  rest  of  the  evening.  The 
words  "  made  for  each  other  "  kept  echoing  within  her 
and  she  could  hear  them  above  the  sound  of  the  music, 
the  conversations,  and  all  the  joyful  gaiety  of  the  ball. 

Later  on  in  the  evening,  she  happened  to  be  with 
Monsieur  de  Keradieu,  just  behind  her  husband  and 
the  Duchess.  They  were  both  standing  in  a  doorway 
and  she  heard  Jacques  say,  in  a  warm,  muffled  voice: 

"  I  can  quite  understand  the  poor  King  of  Bavaria 
having  Wagner's  operas  played  for  himself  alone,  in 
order  to  enter  into  them  better.  He  was  a  great 
idealist.  I  should  like  to  dance  with  you,  to  the  sound 
of  an  invisible  orchestra,  in  an  empty  room  decorated 
with  fragrant  flowers,  lighted  with  very  soft  lights.  I 
should  like  to  dance  with  you  then  as  long  as  I  had 
any  strength  to  dance  .  .  ." 


AMERICAN  NOBILITY  365 

Although  Annie  was  half  hidden  by  the  curtain, 
Christiane  had  seen  her,  fortunately.  She  turned 
round  and  said  to  her,  with  a  smile: 

"  You  hear  what  nonsense  Monsieur  d'Anguilhon  is 
talking?" 

"  I  do,"  answered  the  young  Marchioness,  somewhat 
coldly. 

She  had  heard,  but  she  had  not  understood  all  that 
her  husband's  words  meant. 

Monsieur  de  Keradieu  was  simply  amazed. 

"  Why,  it  is  a  fancy  worthy  of  a  decadent  or  a  sym- 
bolist," he  said,  by  way  of  putting  Annie  off  the  scent. 
"  Do  you  belong  to  the  Rose-Croix  brotherhood  ?  " 

Jacques  seized  the  helping  hand  offered  to  him. 

"  No,"  he  answered,  with  a  laugh  that  did  not  sound 
genuine,  "  but  dancing  always  intoxicates  me  a  little." 

"  You  see  what  it  is  to  be  young,"  said  Henri  de 
Keradieu,  in  a  careless  tone.  "  Dancing  simply  tires 
me,  nowadays." 

Annie  was  never  the  same  again  after  this  ball.  It 
was  destined  to  be  one  of  the  turning-points  in  her 
life.  The  conversation  she  had  overheard  produced  in 
her  the  same  effect  as  that  produced  by  a  stone  thrown 
slantingly  on  to  the  surface  of  still  water.  Thanks  to 
the  rebound,  the  ripples  are  increased  in  number  and 
size.  At  every  moment,  and  everywhere,  the  words 
kept  coming  back  to  her  mind  in  the  most  cruel  way, 
causing  her  pain  and  spoiling  all  her  enjoyment.  She 
began  to  wonder  whether  Jacques  and  the  Duchess  had 
not  been  in  love  with  each  other  in  the  old  days.  She 
did  not  go  as  far  as  to  suppose  it  possible  for  them 
to  be  in  love  now.  She  knew  that  Christiane  had 
wanted  her  to  marry  Jacques  and  had  even  helped  to 
bring  the  marriage  about  and  this  somewhat  reassured 


366  AMERICAN  NOBILITY 

her.  Her  husband's  words  then  came  to  her  memory. 
Most  certainly  he  would  never  have  wished  to  dance 
with  her,  Annie,  to  the  music  of  an  invisible  orchestra, 
in  an  empty  room,  with  fragrant  flowers  all  round  and 
a  soft  light.  She  was  surprised  that  he  should  have 
so  extravagant  a  fancy. 

Christiane's  visits  no  longer  gave  her  the  same 
pleasure  as  formerly.  Her  presence,  which,  only  a  few 
days  before,  had  caused  her  such  joy,  made  her  anxious 
and  nervous  now,  so  that,  without  being  aware  of  it 
herself,  she  was  less  cordial  in  her  greeting. 

Jacques  soon  noticed  the  change  in  his  wife.  Her 
charming  face  seemed  to  be  always  clouded  over  now 
and,  on  looking  at  her  suddenly,  he  was  constantly 
finding  her  limpid  eyes  fixed  on  him  with  an  expression 
of  curiosity  and  anxiety  in  them.  He  could  not 
imagine  how,  but  he  felt  sure  that  her  distrust  had 
been  awakened.  He  was  more  attentive  to  her  and 
more  tender  and  he  began  to  give  up  more  time  to 
her.  Annie,  on  her  side,  urged  on  by  a  curious  in- 
stinct of  rivalry  and  an  unconscious  desire  to  make 
the  Duchess  suffer,  began  to  depart  from  her  natural 
reserve,  and  to  praise  her  husband's  good  qualities  to 
her.  She  would  speak  of  his  little  attentions  to  her, 
and  talk  enthusiastically  of  this  long  journey  they 
were  going  together.  These  confidences  simply  tor- 
tured Christiane,  and  more  than  once  she  almost  cried 
out :  "  Enough,  enough  I " 

Under  the  empire  of  a  sentiment  she  did  not  com- 
prehend, the  young  wife  was  more  familiar  in  her 
treatment  of  her  husband  now,  in  the  presence  of 
Madame  de  Blanzac.  One  day,  when  she  was  standing 
up  near  his  chair,  she  suddenly  put  her  hands  over 
his  eyes. 


AMERICAN  NOBILITY  367 

"  Jacques,"  she  said,  "  I  will  not  allow  you  to  look 
at  Madame  de  Blanzac  like  that — or  at  any  other 
woman,"  she  added,  laughing. 

The  duel  had  begun  between  the  two  rivals,  and  it 
was  easy  to  foresee  that  it  would  be  fatal  for  both 
of  them. 


CHAPTER  XVIII 

The  Marquis  and  Marchioness  d'Anguilhon  had  en- 
gaged their  berths  on  board  the  Gascogne,  and  were 
to  embark  for  America  on  the  first  of  July. 

The  thought  of  this  journey  made  the  Duchess  more 
and  more  desperate.  By  virtue  of  her  right  as  his 
wife,  Annie  was  taking  away  the  man  whom  she, 
Christiane,  loved,  and  who  belonged  to  her.  At  the 
bare  thought  of  this,  her  whole  being  protested  and 
her  pride  rebelled.  At  times,  the  effervescence  of  her 
passionate  love  obscured  her  reason,  just  as  the 
effervescence  of  a  heady  wine  will  hide  the  wine  itself. 
She  felt  within  herself  a  violence  that  alarmed  her, 
and  she  suffered  all  the  more  intensely  because  she 
had  to  suffer  in  silence.  The  day  when  she  had  given 
way  to  her  jealousy  in  Jacques'  presence,  he  had 
appeared  surprised  and  pained,  but  he  had  not  under- 
stood her.  A  man  only  understands  his  own  jealousy. 
He  always  considers  that  of  a  woman  more  or  less 
unreasonable.  When  he  is  no  longer  suffering  from 
jealousy  himself,  he  very  quickly  forgets  how  painful 
and  cruel  it  is  to  body,  mind,  and  soul  alike.  The 
Duchess  knew  this,  and  so  did  not  speak  again  about 
the  visit  to  America.  Jacques,  on  his  side,  from  moral 
cowardice,  had  avoided  making  any  allusion  to  it. 
This  was  a  mistake.  In  situations  like  theirs,  the  mind 
is  always  at  high  pressure,  and  scenes,  reproaches,  and 

368 


AMERICAN  NOBILITY  369 

fits  of  anger  all  act  as  safety-valves.  Christiane 
had  disdained  this  vulgar  means  of  relief  and  the 
consequence  was  that  her  heart  was  nearly  bursting 
with  pain  and  sorrow. 

It  was  the  fifteenth  of  June  and  the  heat  was  over- 
whelming. From  the  four  points  of  the  heavens,  the 
clouds  were  rising  and  a  storm  was  gathering  over 
Paris.  Madame  de  Blanzac  had  given  orders  that  she 
was  not  at  home  to  callers.  This  frequently  happened 
now,  to  the  great  disappointment  of  her  friends.  The 
electricity  with  which  the  atmosphere  was  charged 
affected  her,  as  it  does  the  birds,  the  plants,  and  the 
barometer.  She  was  suffering  to  the  very  depths  of 
her  being,  physically  and  morally.  After  trying  to 
interest  herself  in  books  and  music,  she  began  to  pace 
up  and  down  the  room,  slowly  and  with  irregular 
steps.  Her  head  was  bowed,  as  though  under  the 
weight  of  painful  thoughts.  From  time  to  time,  she 
would  go  to  the  French  window,  to  get  a  little  air 
and  to  see  in  which  direction  the  storm  was. 

The  Keradieus  and  the  Anguilhons  were  going  to- 
gether to  the  Arnbassadeurs  that  evening.  As  Madame 
de  Blanzac  had  invited  the  Prince  de  Nolles  to  dinner, 
and  as  he  detested  cafes-concerts,  she  had  been  obliged 
to  decline  going  with  them.  This  she  regretted  on 
Jacques'  account,  and  she  was  hoping  that  the  weather 
might  prevent  them  from  carrying  out  their  plan. 

Poor  Christiane !  She,  whose  mind  had  once  soared 
so  high,  had  now  come  down  to  such  a  paltry  wish ! 

Just  as  she  had  looked  at  the  sky  for  the  tenth 
time,  a  letter  was  brought  to  her  from  the  Prince  de 
Nolles.  He  wrote  to  excuse  himself  from  coming  to 
dinner,  as  he  was  called  away  from  Paris  on  important 
business. 

24 


a70  AMERICAN  NOIULITY 

It  was  with  keen  satisfaction  that  the  Duchess  read 
these  lines,  destined  though  they  were  to  urge  her  on 
in  the  direction  of  the  abyss.  She  decided  to  go  her- 
self and  tell  Annie  that  she  was  free,  after  all,  and 
ask  Jacques  to  secure  two  more  seats,  one  for  herself 
and  one  for  her  uncle.  She  rang  for  her  gloves  and 
hat  and  went  in  neighbourly  fashion,  as  she  frequently 
did,  next  door.  The  footman  told  her  that  the  Marquis 
and  the  Marchioness  were  out  in  the  garden.  She  said 
she  would  go  out  to  them.  When  she  had  reached  the 
stone  steps  leading  outdoors,  she  looked  across  the 
lawn  and  along  the  two  paths,  shaded  by  trees.  As 
she  saw  no  one  there,  she  turned  in  the  direction  of 
the  greenhouse,  the  door  of  which  was  wide  open. 
Before  reaching  it,  she  heard  childish  cries  of  joy,  and 
the  sound  of  kisses.  She  stood  still  and,  through  a 
gap  in  the  foliage,  she  saw  Jacques  and  Annie  sitting 
on  a  sofa,  with  their  backs  turned  towards  her.  The 
child  was  standing  up  between  them,  holding  their 
faces  together  with  his  little  arms  and  kissing  them 
in  turn. 

"  One  for  papa,  one  for  mamma,"  he  was  saying. 

The  arrival  of  the  nurse  put  an  end  to  the  game 
and  Annie  freed  herself  from  the  child's  embrace. 

"  Here  is  Mary,"  she  said.  "  Go  with  her  and  be 
good." 

The  boy  clambered  down  and  ran  to  his  nurse.  This 
little  family  scene  gave  the  Duchess  a  pang  at  her 
heart  and  brought  the  tears  to  her  eyes. 

Jacques'  voice,  his  tender,  warm  voice  that  she  knew 
so  well,  held  her  rooted  to  the  spot. 

"  What  a  fine  child  he  is,  that  son  of  ours ! "  he 
said.  "  With  his  white  complexion  and  his  fair  hair, 
he  looks  a  regular  Saxon." 


AMERICAN  NOBILITY  371 

"  I  hope  he  will  have  the  Anguilhon  nose,"  returned 
Annie. 

"  And  I  hope  he  will  have  the  energy  and  the  prac- 
tical mind  of  the  Villars  family.  Our  race  greatly 
needs  those  qualities  and  no  woman  better  than  an 
American  could  give  them  to  him." 

"  Yes,  I  think  that — but  you,  yourself,  Jacques, 
would  have  been  happier  with  a  French  woman." 

"  You  say  that  for  the  pleasure  of  hearing  me  repeat 
the  contrary.  Happier,"  he  continued,  "  why,  we  have 
been  married  now  four  years  and  a  half,  and  we  have 
never  had  the  slightest  disagreement,  not  a  single  dis- 
agreeable word.  Very  few  married  people  could  say 
the  same,  I  assure  you.  No,  I  should  not  like  any 
other  woman  than  you  for  my  companion  through  life 
and  I  should  not  like  any  other  woman  for  the  mother 
of  my  sons, — of  my  sons,"  he  repeated  and  then  he 
added,  in  a  lower  voice,  "  for  we  shall  have  another 
soon,  shall  we  not?" 

The  Marquis  put  his  arm  round  Annie's  shoulders 
and,  drawing  her  to  him,  kissed  her  lips. 

"  Jacques  I " 

On  hearing  this  name  uttered  like  a  cry  of  pain, 
the  husband  and  wife  rose  to  their  feet  with  a  start 
and,  turning  round,  saw  the  Duchess  advancing  to- 
wards them.  She  looked  like  some  tragic  apparition 
with  her  livid  face  and  her  eyes  gleaming  with  madness. 

"Which  of  us  are  you  deceiving?"  she  asked,  ad- 
dressing the  Marquis.  "  Annie,"  she  continued,  "your 
husband  has  been  my  lover  for  two  years — for  two 
years,  you  understand.  I  have  given  him  more  than 
you,  for  I  have  given  him  my  honour  and  my  life. 
We  have  always  loved  each  other.  .  .  .  He  married  you 
because  he  needed  money,  and  he  could  not  borrow 


372  AMERICAN  NOBILITY 

it  except  on  that  condition.  This  is  the  truth.  I  have 
wanted  to  tell  you  for  long  enough.  I  have  done  so 
at  last —  You  can  give  hira  some  more  sons  now,  if 
you  feel  inclined " 

After  uttering  these  atrocious  words,  Christiane 
turned  and  moved  towards  the  door,  staggering  like 
an  intoxicated  person. 

"  Go  to  your  room,"  said  the  Marquis  to  his  wife, 
in  a  voice  so  changed  that  it  was  unrecognisable. 

Annie  obeyed  mechanically.  She  went  away  with- 
out uttering  a  word,  her  teeth  clenched  together, 
and  an  expression  of  horror  and  disgust  on  her 
face. 

Jacques  then  went  quickly  after  the  Duchess.  She 
could  not  have  gone  far,  as  her  heart  was  beating  so 
wildly  that  she  could  not  draw  her  breath.  She  had 
just  managed  to  reach  an  armchair  in  the  next  draw- 
ing-room, and  had  sunk  down  on  to  it.  As  the  Marquis 
approached,  she  made  a  supreme  effort,  and  stood  up 
again.  They  looked  at  each  other  for  a  few  seconds 
in  silence,  with  an  expression  of  defiance  in  their  eyes, 
and  then  Jacques,  giving  way  to  the  anger  that  was 
surging  up  within  him,  seized  the  Duchess's  wrist 
roughly,  as  though  he  would  have  liked  to  crush  her 
there  and  then. 

"  It  is  you — you  who  could  be  guilty  of  such  an 
infamous  thing?"  he  said,  his  eyes  flashing  with  rage. 
"  It  is  unworthy  of  you !  " 

This  violence  reacted  on  the  Duchess's  nerves.  A 
rush  of  blood  chased  the  paleness  from  her  face.  She 
disengaged  herself  from  the  Marquis's  grasp  and, 
drawing  herself  up  haughtily,  said,  with  the  most 
surprising  calmness : 

"  Yes,  it  is  I  who  have  committed  this  infamy.    Your 


AMERICAN  NOBILITY  378 

treachery  urged  me  to  it,  and  I  do  not  regret  it."  She 
said  the  last  words  in  a  hard  tone  of  voice. 

Jacques  shrugged  his  shoulders. 

"My  treachery?"  he  exclaimed.  "I  am  married 
and  you  were  fully  aware  of  that  fact." 

"  Yes,  but  one  never  believes — one  never  realises. 
Any  woman  who  has  seen  the  man  she  loves  kissing 
the  lips  of  another  woman  would  understand.  That 
kiss  maddened  me.  If  I  had  had  a  revolver,  I  should 
have  killed  you." 

"  That  would  have  been  better  for  me.  What  you 
have  done  is  as  though  you  had  thrown  vitriol  in  my 
face.     I  should  have  preferred  death." 

As  Jacques  said  this,  it  was  as  though  his  legs  had 
given  way  under  him.  He  sank  down  on  a  chair  and 
his  pale  face  and  haggard  look  suddenly  roused  the 
Duchess's  pity  and  remorse.  8he  approached  him  and 
laid  her  hand  gently  on  his  shoulder. 

"  Shall  you  ever  forgive  me?"  she  asked,  humbly. 

"  Forgive  you,"  he  repeated,  in  a  mechanical  way. 
"  I  do  not  know — I  feel  like  a  man  on  whom  a  thunder- 
bolt has  just  fallen." 

"  Well,  when  you  can  think  again,  say  to  yourself 
that  I  was  carried  away  by  the  pain  that  your  act 
and  your  words  caused  me.  Say  to  yourself,  too,  that 
the  end  of  our  dream  had  to  come  to-day,  and  that 
nothing  could  have  advanced  or  delayed  it.  It  is  surely 
a  case  which  shows  that  we  are  led  by  destiny.  Adieu. 
You  will  come  and  tell  me,  to-morrow,  what  happens 
between  Annie  and  you,  will  you  not  ?  " 

"  I  will  come  with  you  to  the  door,"  said  Jacques, 
getting  up. 

"  No,  there  is  no  need  to,"  said  Christiane,  and  then, 
seeing  that  the  Marquis  was  paying  no  attention  to 


374  AMERICAN  NOBILITY 

her  words,  she  added,  in  an  imperative  tone :  "  Stay 
where  you  are." 

Jacques  obeyed  her  this  time  and  she  went  away, 
passing  through  the  long  suite  of  reception-rooms.  He 
watched  her  in  a  kind  of  stupor.  He  saw  her  push 
aside  the  curtains  on  the  doors,  gradually  get  smaller 
in  the  distance,  until  at  last  she  disappeared  alto- 
gether. A  strange  sensation  of  cold,  desertion,  and 
gloom  then  came  over  him. 

Just  at  this  moment,  he  heard  a  peal  of  thunder. 
His  nerves  were  so  much  shaken  that  he  started, 
violently.  He  went  to  the  window  and  looked  up  at 
the  sky. 

"  On  what  slight  things  a  man's  happiness  depends !  " 
he  said  to  himself.  "  Nothing  of  this  would  have 
hapi)ened  if  it  had  not  been  for  this  accursed 
thunder-storm ! " 


CHAPTER  XIX 

Annie  never  knew  how  she  reached  her  room,  but, 
when  once  there,  she  locked  herself  in.  Dizzy  and 
bewildered,  and  trembling  all  over,  she  threw  herself 
on  to  a  sofa  and  buried  her  face  in  a  cushion.  For 
a  few  moments,  she  could  not  realise  just  what  had 
happened.  Gradually,  the  odious  scene  came  back  to 
her  mind  in  all  its  details.  She  then  drew  herself 
up  abruptly  and,  with  a  fixed  gaze  in  her  eyes,  her 
nose  taking  a  pinched  expression  and  her  mouth  be- 
coming rigid,  she  began  to  roll  the  hem  of  her 
handkerchief  round  nervously. 

And  so  Madame  de  Blanzac  had  been  her  husband's 
mistress  for  two  years  and  she  had  only  been  married 
for  her  money !  This  revelation  had,  at  first,  given  her 
the  same  terror  that  she  would  have  had  if  she  had 
suddenly  seen  her  house  swallowed  up  by  the  earth 
and  felt  the  ground  giving  way  under  her  feet.  At 
present,  though,  this  double  infamy  had  raised  within 
her  a  whole  tide  of  anger  and  contempt,  which  threat- 
ened to  sweep  all  before  it.  Jacques  was  not  a  gentle- 
man I  This  seemed  to  her  more  frightful  than  the 
unfaithfulness  itself.  He  had  accepted  an  immense 
fortune  from  her,  without  loving  her.  He  had  per- 
jured himself,  had  lied  to  her  thousands  of  times,  he, 
whose  family  motto  was  Tout  droit.  She  had  fallen 
into  one  of  the  traps  for  heiresses,  of  which  Frank 

375 


376  AMERICAN  NOBILITY 

Barnett  had  warned  her.    Ah,  if  this  were  to  be  known 
in  America,  how  people  would  triumph ! 

Annie  was  surprised  at  herself  for  having  believed 
a  foreigner's  word  so  readily.  She  recalled  that  dinner 
at  the  Duchess's,  where  she  had  met  Jacques  for  the 
first  time.  He  had  seemed  to  her  such  a  thorough 
aristocrat.  He  had  paid  no  attention  to  her  and  had 
taken  very  little  notice  of  her  for  a  long  time.  And 
yet,  he  had  intended  marrying  her  and  he  had  acted 
in  this  way  merely  to  arouse  her  interest.  She  had 
been  the  victim  of  a  regular  plot.  The  various  in- 
cidents which  had  brought  them  together  came  back 
to  her  memory.  She  now  believed  that  they  had  all 
been  carefully  arranged.  Then  she  recalled  the  beauti- 
ful things  Jacques  had  said  on  that  evening  when  he 
had  declared  his  love.  He  had  been  so  tender  and 
what  he  said  had  all  been  so  dignified.  A  burning 
blush  swept  over  her  face  as  she  thought  that  he  had 
simply  been  making  fun  of  her.  Well,  he  had  cer- 
tainly played  his  part  very  cleverly.  The  young  wife's 
heart  swelled  with  bitterness  at  the  thought  that  the 
gift  of  herself  and  of  an  almost  royal  fortune  had  not 
sufficed  for  making  her  husband  respect  her.  He  had 
deceived  her  after  a  year  and  a  half  of  married  life 
and — under  their  own  roof.  He  had  continued  to 
blind  her  with  his  protestations  of  love.  This  de- 
nunciation, which  had  interrupted  his  hypocritical 
kiss,  was  his  punishment.  She  saw  Madame  de 
Blanzac,  suddenly  appearing  before  them  and  hurling 
those  horrible  words  at  them,  which  were  to  separate 
them  for  ever.  She  had  looked  taller  than  usual  and 
very  terrible,  with  her  livid  face  and  dilated  eyes. 
What  had  prompted  her  to  that  denunciation?  Was 
it  jealousy?    How  could  she  be  jealous  though,  when 


AMERICAN  NOBILITY  377 

she  knew  that  Jacques  had  no  love  for  his  wife?  And 
so  she  had  been  his  mistress  for  the  last  two  years 
and  the  confidence  that  she,  Annie,  had  had  in  them 
both  had  given  them  free  play.  Not  only  had  she  had 
no  suspicion  of  what  was  going  on,  but  she  had  helped 
them  herself,  by  constantly  throwing  them  together. 
They  certainly  had  deceived  her  and  gulled  her.  It 
was  not  at  all  surprising  that  they  had  always  had  so 
much  to  say  to  each  other.  And  they  had  probably 
been  meeting  each  other,  clandestinely,  in  some  mys- 
terious ground-floor  flat,  like  the  people  that  one  reads 
of  in  the  Vie  Parisienne.  And  so  the  Duchess,  grande 
dame  and  proud  as  she  was,  would  condescend  to  meet 
her  lover  in  a  flat  that  he  would  have  to  fur- 
nish with  his  wife's  money.  That  was  certainly  the 
climax. 

"  What  a  set !  What  a  set ! "  exclaimed  Annie, 
aloud,  squeezing  her  hands  together. 

"  Yes,  they  had  evidently  been  made  for  each 
other,"  she  went  on  soliloquising,  "  physically  and 
morally." 

A  feeling  of  absolute  desertion  and  intense  loneli- 
ness then  came  over  the  young  wife,  bringing  the  tears 
to  her  eyes.  What  should  she  do?  she  asked  herself. 
Should  she  obtain  a  divorce?  No,  for  then,  Jacques 
would  be  able  to  marry  Madame  de  Blanzac,  and  she 
would  not  give  him  that  opportunity.  She  would  keep 
his  title  and  his  name.  She  had  paid  dearly  enough 
for  them  to  have  a  right  to  keep  them.  She  would 
return  to  America,  to  her  mother  and  her  family,  and 
spend  the  rest  of  her  life  among  straightforward  people. 
It  would  have  been  so  much  better  for  her  if  only 
she  had  never  come  away.  At  the  thought  of  return- 
ing to  America,  Annie  suddenly  felt  the  strength  of 


378  AMERICAN  NOBILITY 

the  ties  that  bound  her  to  Europe.  Curiously  enough, 
an  instantaneous  vision  of  New  York  flashed  through 
her  mind.  She  saw  its  long  avenues,  its  tall,  narrow 
houses,  its  middle-class  homes,  its  swarming  crowds, 
and  its  hurried  and  noisy  daily  life.  She  then  saw  Paris, 
with  all  its  elegance  and  repose.  She  felt  sure  that  she 
should  be  very  sorry  to  leave  it,  when  the  time  really 
came.  And  then  Blonay  that  she  loved  so  much,  and 
all  the  philanthropic  schemes  that  she  had  commenced. 
There  was  the  priest,  too,  with  whom  she  got  on  so 
well.  She  then  thought  of  her  mother-in-law,  who  had 
been  such  a  perfect  friend  to  her.  A  suspicion  sud- 
denly crossed  her  mind.  Had  her  mother-in-law  been 
a  true  friend,  or  had  she,  too,  been  playing  a  part? 
Had  the  meeting  at  La  Bluette  been  arranged?  She 
thought  this  over  for  a  few  minutes,  and  then  her  face 
brightened.  No,  Madame  d'Anguilhon  was  certainly 
innocent  of  all  these  vile  things  and  had  known  nothing 
of  them.  It  did  Annie  good  to  think  that,  at  least, 
there  was  one  person  on  whom  she  could  count.  She 
then  began  to  examine  the  situation  with  the  most 
extraordinary  lucidity.  Since  she  did  not  intend  to 
consent  to  a  divorce,  she  would  have  to  remain  in 
France.  Her  son  would  be  the  head  of  the  Anguilhon 
family,  so  that  she  could  not  take  him  away  to  America. 
If  she  stayed  in  France,  she  would  have  to  continue 
living  under  the  same  roof  as  her  husband.  There 
must  be  no  scandal,  as  she  would  have  to  endeavour 
to  save  the  honour  of  the  name  that  she  bore.  She 
would  try  to  carry  all  this  out.  By  remaining  at  her 
post,  she  felt  sure  that  she  would  greatly  disappoint 
the  Duchess.  It  was  some  little  consolation  to  avenge 
herself  in  this  way. 

Poor  Annie!    She  would  have  been  very  indignant 


AMERICAN  NOBILITY  379 

if,  at  that  moment,  any  one  had  told  her  she  was  very 
glad  to  find  that  her  duty  obliged  her  to  stay  with 
Jacques,  that  she  loved  him  in  spite  of  everything,  and 
that  she  would  love  him  still  more  as  time  went  on. 


CHAPTER  XX 

The  Marquis  d'Anguilhon  "went  to  his  room  in  a 
very  unenviable  frame  of  mind.  All  the  consequences 
of  his  folly  now  rose  up  before  him.  There  would  be 
a  divorce  and  this  would  mean  scandal  and  ruin. 
His  son's  future  would  be  darkened  and  the  happiness 
of  his  wife  and  mother  destroyed  for  ever.  He  was 
simply  crushed  at  the  thought  of  the  immense  dis- 
aster. He  did  not  remain  long,  however,  in  this  con- 
dition. He  had  not  the  force  of  character  to  avoid 
certain  errors  and  follies,  but  when  once  he  had  com- 
mitted them,  he  was  courageous  enough  to  try  to 
repair  them.  When  brought  face  to  face  with  a  critical 
situation,  his  innate  bravery  and  clear-headedness  came 
to  his  aid  and  his  hereditary  qualities  helped  him  to 
come  out  of  the  difficulty  in  a  creditable  way.  In  this 
dire  moment,  they  did  not  fail  him.  Instead  of  knock- 
ing his  head  against  the  wall,  he  set  himself  calmly  to 
think  over  the  situation.  It  was  by  no  means  reassuring. 
During  the  terrible  scene  that  had  just  taken  place, 
he  had  not  dared  to  look  at  Annie,  but  he  had  felt  her 
horror  and  contempt  in  a  magnetic  way.  He  knew 
how  highly  her  sense  of  honour  was  developed  and 
how  rigid  she  was  in  questions  of  morality.  He  was 
quite  prepared  to  be  severely  judged  and  pitilessly 
treated.  With  her  character  and  her  temperament,  it 
would  be  impossible  to  make  her  relent  or  persuade 

380 


AMERICAN  NOBILITY  381 

her  to  forgive  him.  Jacques  saw  clearly  enough  that 
his  only  chance  was  to  make  a  sincere  confession  of 
his  acts  and  of  his  feelings.  The  truth  would,  fortun- 
ately, make  him  seem  somewhat  less  odious  and  might 
give  him  back  a  little  of  his  prestige.  An  explanation 
was  both  necessary  and  inevitable.  It  was  better  to 
get  it  over  at  once. 

After  bracing  himself  up  for  the  ordeal,  he  went  and 
knocked  at  his  wife's  door.  On  receiving  no  answer, 
he  went  round  by  another  landing  and,  passing  through 
the  dressing-room,  entered  his  wife's  room  by  the  other 
door. 

On  seeing  him  suddenly  appear  before  her,  Annie 
rose,  as  though  to  protest  against  his  presence.  There 
were  no  signs  of  tears  on  her  face,  but  very  evident 
signs  of  intense  grief.  On  seeing  it  so  drawn  and  so 
changed,  Jacques  felt  the  keenest  remorse.  He  was 
tempted  to  take  her  in  his  arms,  to  kneel  before  her, 
and  beg  her  to  forgive  him.  The  cold,  implacable  look 
in  her  eyes  restrained  him  from  doing  this,  fortunately. 
He  conquered  his  emotion  and,  with  his  head  perfectly 
erect,  said: 

"  I  have  not  come  to  try  to  justify  myself " 

"  That  would  be  difficult,  I  should  think,"  inter- 
rupted the  Marchioness. 

"  It  would  be  impossible,"  answered  Jacques,  with 
perfect  self-possession.  '"  I  merely  wish  to  give  you 
the  true  facts,"  he  continued,  "  as  I  do  not  care  for 
you  to  think  me  worse  than  I  am.  I  know  you  will 
listen  to  me,  if  only  out  of  a  sense  of  justice." 

The  Marchioness  was  completely  subdued  by  the 
boldness  and  audacity  of  her  husband.  She  sat  down 
again,  absolutely  unable  to  utter  a  word.  Jacques 
took  an  armchair  and,  with  his  eyes  fixed  on  his  wife, 


a82  AMERICAN  NOBILITY 

he  told  her  exactly  the  truth  about  the  way  the  mar- 
riage had  been  suggested  to  him  by  Bontemps,  just  as 
he  was  preparing  to  start  for  Africa.  He  told  her 
how  he  had  gone  to  the  Duchess  and  also  about  the 
transaction  with  Madame  de  L^ne.  These  two  details 
were  extremely  disagreeable  to  confess. 

"  Before  deciding,"  he  added,  "  I  wanted  to  see  you. 
T  looked  at  you  the  whole  of  an  evening  at  the  Opera, 
tlnough  my  glasses.  You  fascinated  me  by  the  gay, 
frank  expression  of  your  face,  by  your  distinguished 
look,  the  pretty  way  your  head  was  set,  the  colour  of 
your  hair,  and  your  beautiful  complexion.  I  was 
tempted  to  try  and  win  you,  all  the  more  so  as  I  had 
been  told  that  you  did  not  wish  to  marry  a  Frenchman. 
You  know  me  well  enough  to  be  sure  that  I  would 
never  have  consented  to  marry  a  girl  I  did  not  like, 
oven  if  she  had  possessed  the  fortune  of  all  the  Roths- 
childs. When  I  asked  you  to  be  my  wife,  I  was 
actuated  by  a  feeling  that  was  deep  and  sincere  and 
absolutely  disinterested." 

"  All  that  is  very  pretty,"  said  Annie,  with  an  accent 
of  contempt,  "  but  you  forget  that  Madame  de  Blanzac 
told  me,  just  now,  you  had  always  loved  each  other." 

"  Yes,  but  it  is  quite  possible  to  have  within  us  the 
germs  of  a  disease  or  of  a  passion,  for  a  long  time, 
without  knowing  it.  The  Duchess  and"  I  had  known 
each  other  from  childhood,  but  we  had  been  separated 
by  circumstances.  My  marriage  brought  us  together 
again.  The  germs  which  had  been  within  us  developed, 
our  love  became  irresistible,  and  we  were  weak  and 
gave  way  to  it." 

"  Yes,  and  you  were  false  to  all  your  oaths,  to  all 
your  promises,  just  like  the  most  ordinary  of  men. 
I  do  not  really  know  why  one  should  expect  to  find 


AMERICAN  NOBILITY  383 

more  honour  and  more  loyalty  in  the  aristocracy  than 
in  other  classes  of  society.  I  am  reading  French  his- 
tory now  and  I  find  that  dukes,  princes,  and  marquises 
have  betrayed  their  country,  their  kings  have  treated 
with  the  enemy  and  been  guilty  of  every  kind  of 
infamy." 

At  this  slap,  so  roughly  administered  by  Annie's 
little  democratic  hand,  Jacques  turned  pale,  his  eyes 
flashed,  and  his  lips  quivered  with  anger.  He  mastered 
himself  though,  and  held  up  his  head  again,  as  he 
said: 

"  There  have  been  traitors  and  miserable  wretches 
among  us,  for  the  simple  reason  that,  in  this  world, 
nothing  is  perfect,  neither  race,  family,  nor  individuals. 
I  would  advise  you  to  continue  reading  and  to  rise 
above  personalities.  You  will  see  that  the  crimes  of 
a  few  have  been  outbalanced  by  the  courage,  heroism, 
and  real  merit  of  the  great  majority,  and  that  the 
princes,  dukes,  and  marquises  have  made  France,  that 
they  defended  it  against  England,  Germany,  and 
Spain,  and  gave  it  a  preponderance  and  a  prestige 
that  it  will,  perhaps,  never  have  again.  My  faults 
must  not  make  you  unjust,"  added  the  Marquis,  with 
dignity.  "  Then,  too,"  he  continued,  after  a  moment's 
pause,  "  believe  me,  we  do  not  make  our  own  destiny. 
You  can  see  that  by  yourself.  Had  you  not  declared 
that  you  would  never  marry  a  foreigner?  I  married 
you  with  the  firm  intention  of  making  you  happy — I 
have  not  been  able  to  do  so." 

"  If  I  had  been  unfaithful  to  you  and  had  come  to 
you  and  said  that  it  was  due  to  fatality,  how  should 
you  have  received  me  ?  " 

"  Logically,  I  should  have  pitied  and  forgiven  you, 
but  I  must  own  that,  very  probably,  I  should  not  have 


384  AMERICAN  NOBILITY 

been  wise  enough  for  that.  The  wife's  unfaithfulness 
has  such  grave  consequences.  It  destroys  the  integ- 
rity of  the  family,  whilst  that  of  the  husband " 

"  Merely  destroys  the  happiness  of  a  woman,"  inter- 
rupted Annie.  "That,  of  course,  is  a  very  small 
matter." 

"  No,  it  is  not  a  small  matter,  especially  in  the  case 
of  a  woman  like  you.  I  have  suffered  horribly  at  the 
thought  of  deceiving  you,  and  all  the  more  as  I  have 
always  loved  you." 

Annie's  eyes  opened  wide  in  her  astonishment. 

"You  have  always  loved  me?"  she  repeated,  slowly. 

"  Always,"  said  the  Marquis,  in  a  firm  tone.  "  My 
affection  for  you  has  gone  on  increasing.  All  my 
tender  words  and  all  my  caresses  were  the  expression 
of  that  deep  and  noble  sentiment  which  is  called 
conjugal  love." 

"  Ah,  really  ?  And  what  about  that  much  deeper 
and,  probably,  much  nobler  sentiment,  which  you  have 
for  Madame  de  Blanzac?  \Miat  is  that  called?  "  asked 
the  Marchioness,  with  biting  irony.  "  I  am  curious 
to  know  that." 

"  Love,"  answered  Jacques,  imperturbably. 

A  pained  look  crossed  Annie's  face. 

"  I  thought  it  was  only  in  novels  that  a  man  loves 
two  women  at  the  same  time." 

"In  life,  too,  alas !  You  see  the  wife  becomes  flesh 
of  our  flesh;  she  bears  our  name;  she  becomes  a  part 
of  ourselves,  and  we  can  love  outside  marriage  as  well. 
This  is  so  true  that  one  of  my  friends  told  me  that 
he  was  constantly  tempted  to  tell  his  wife  the  worries 
that  his  mistress  causes  him." 

"  Ah,  what  poor  little  girls  we  Americans  are ! " 
exclaimed  Annie.    "  How  little  we  know  to  what  we 


AMERICAN  NOBILITY  385 

are  exposing  ourselves  by  marrying  men  with  such 
different  souls  from  ours ! " 

"  Annie,  I  would  give  my  life  to  repair  the  wrong 
I  have  done  you,"  said  the  Marquis  in  a  tone  of 
absolute  sincerity. 

"  Words,  nothing  but  words,"  replied  the  young  wife. 
"  You  know  quite  well  that  you  cannot  repair  it." 

"  I  can,  at  any  rate,  give  you  back  your  liberty." 

It  was  not  without  violent  emotion,  that  Jacques 
uttered  these  words. 

"  You  mean  divorce  ? "  said  Annie,  turning  paler. 
"  Thank  you,  you  are  very  kind,  but  that  would  only 
be  adding  to  my  misfortune.  It  is  the  same  with  us 
as  with  you ;  a  woman  who  is  divorced,  even  when  the 
fault  is  not  hers,  has  a  false  position  always.  I  have 
had  great  difficulty  in  accustoming  myself  to  your  kind 
of  life.  I  have  felt  horribly  lonely  and  homesick  often. 
At  present,  I  am  acclimatised;  T  have  made  some 
friends,  and  I  have  created  certain  interests  for  my- 
self. It  would  be  almost  like  a  second  exile  to  go 
back  to  America  now.  Then,  too,  there  is  Philippe. 
I  do  not  wish  him  to  be  the  son  of  divorced  parents 
and  I  will  not  give  him  up.  I  have  often  blamed 
French  women  for  continuing  to  live  with  unfaithful 
husbands.  I  spoke  then  without  reflection.  It  had 
not  occurred  to  me  that  they  could  be  kept  at  their 
post  by  their  children.  One  does  not  realise  the 
strength  of  certain  bonds  until  one  wants  to  break 
them,"  she  added  bitterly.  "  No  tribunal  could  divorce 
us  more  effectually  than  the  words  uttered  by  Madame 
de  Blanzac,"  she  went  on,  with  a  slight  change  in  her 
voice.  "  This  house  and  Blonay  are  big  enough  for  us 
to  be  able  to  live  apart  and  without  being  in  each 
other's  way." 


386  AMERICAN  NOBILITY 

.Jacques  did  not  show  the  joy  he  felt  on  hearing 
these  words. 

"  It  shall  be  exactly  as  you  wish,"  he  said,  coldly. 
"  As  you  refuse  divorce,  I  must  ask  you  to  observe 
the  strictest  silence  about  what  has  taken  place.  Can 
you  promise  to  act  in  such  a  way  that  no  one  may 
suspect  the  truth  ?  " 

"  You  wish  to  save  Madame  de  Blanzac*s  reputa- 
tion?" 

"  I  must,  since  she  is  a  woman  and  has  no  one  to 
defend  her " 

"And  she  is  also  a  victim  of  fatality?" 

"  Certainly.  People  are  always  to  be  pitied  who 
have  the  cruel  parts  to  play.  Would  you  like  to 
change  places  with  her  ?  " 

"  No,  most  decidedly  not." 

"  Well,  then,  you  see " 

"  I  shall  keep  silence,  but  not  on  Madame  de  Blan- 
zac^s  account,  as  I  do  not  pretend  to  have  any  greatness 
of  soul.  It  will  be  for  your  mother's  sake  and  for  the 
sake  of  my  family.  If  the  way  you  have  treated  me 
were  known  in  America,  every  one  would  say  that  I 
had  what  I  deserved,  and  I  should  be  despised  for 
continuing  to  live  with  you.  No  one  would  under- 
stand, no  one  could  understand  such  a  thing.  I  shall 
try,  at  any  rate,  to  save  my  own  dignity.  You  can 
be  quite  easy  on  that  score,  as  it  is  as  much  in  my 
interest  as  in  yours  that  this  secret  should  be  kept. 
There  is  only  one  thing.  The  rupture  between  Madame 
de  Blanzac  and  me  is  sure  to  cause  a  sensation.  People 
will  try  to  find  out  the  reason  and  they  will  discover 
the  truth,  you  may  be  sure  of  that." 

"  \\Tien  two  men  have  any  reason  for  concealing  the 
real  reason  of  a  duel,  they  put  people  oflf  the  scent 


AMERICAN  NOBILITY  387 

by  getting  up  a  quarrel.  You  can  do  the  same.  Rea- 
sons for  falling  out  with  each  other  will  be  easy  enough 
to  find." 

"  You  might  find  one  yourself,  as  I  am  not  good  at 
lies." 

"  I  will  try,"  said  Jacques,  keeping  calm.  "  Then, 
too,  Madame  de  Blanzac  is  just  going  to  Deauville  and 
we  are  going  to  America." 

"  America  ?  "  interrupted  Annie.  "  Do  you  imagine 
I  want  to  go  there,  under  present  conditions?  Clara 
would  have  guessed  the  truth  before  we  had  been  in 
New  York  an  hour.  And  I  should  not  have  strength 
of  mind  to  keep  it  from  her,  either,  most  probably. 
We  will  go  to  Blonay  first,  and  then  we  might  travel 
for  a  time  anywhere,  in  Sweden  and  Norway,  perhaps, 
with  the  Keradieus.  It  will  be  our  divorce-trip  as  a 
complement  to  our  wedding-trip.  It  will  be  quite 
French." 

The  Marquis  rose  and  went  to  the  window.  The 
storm  had  been  short  and  the  weather  was  quite  fine 
again. 

"Are  we  going  to  the  Amhassadeurs? "  he  asked, 
calmly,  as  though  nothing  had  happened. 

Annie  was  taken  aback  by  her  husband's  self- 
possession,  but  she  quickly  recovered  herself. 

"  Oh,  yes,  certainly,"  she  answered,  promptly.  "  I 
am  quite  like  a  French  woman  now,  acting  a  comedy, 
obliged  to  deceive,  to  dissemble,  and  to  throw  dust  in 
every  one's  eyes.  I  shall  play  my  part  very  badly,  I 
warn  you  of  that.  I  have  never  had  anything  to  hide 
before.     I  have  never  had  any  sorrow " 

These  last  words  went  to  Jacques'  heart. 

"  I  would  rather  have  died  than  have  caused  you 
any,"  he  said. 


388  AMERICAN  NOBILITY 

"Yes,  but  you  are  not  dead,  and  my  life  is  spoilt 
for  ever." 

"  I  will  do  all  that  is  humanly  possible  to  make  the 
situation  less  painful." 

"  It  is  not  in  your  power." 

"  I  will  try,  nevertheless." 

With  these  words,  uttered  in  a  resolute  tone,  the 
Marquis  went  away.  His  step  was  as  firm  and  his 
head  as  erect,  as  though  his  conscience  had  nothing 
with  which  to  reproach  him. 

Annie  watched  him  go  and  in  her  eyes  there  was 
an  expression  of  mingled  stupefaction,  anger,  and  in- 
voluntary admiration.  Her  lips  then  began  to  twitch 
with  the  little  quivering  which  betokens  tears  and, 
in  another  minute,  they  had  welled  up  to  her  eyes  and 
were  falling  down  her  cheeks.  She  wiped  them  away, 
at  first,  with  a  sort  of  rage,  but  they  continued  to 
flow  until  they  had  quietly  allayed  the  first  paroxysm 
of  her  sorrow. 


CHAPTER  XXI 

Even  those  who  believe  the  most  firmly  in  free-will 
cannot  deny  that  anger,  love,  or  jealousy  may  anni- 
hilate what  we  call  reason  and  will,  and  make  a  man 
commit  acts  that  will  be  fatal  to  him,  acts  which  will 
influence  not  only  his  own  destiny,  but  that  of  others. 

Jacques'  kiss  had  been  a  shock  to  the  Duchess's 
heart  and  brain  alike.  She  had  uttered  a  cry,  urged 
on  by  an  irresistible  impulse,  thus  denouncing  herself. 
As  soon  as  she  came  to  herself  again,  her  wonder  was 
that  she  could  have  acted  as  she  had  done.  For  some 
hours  afterwards,  her  limbs  were  still  trembling  nerv- 
ously as  a  result  of  her  fit  of  madness.  All  the  dire 
consequences  of  her  rashness  presented  themselves  to 
her  mind,  until  she  was  absolutely  terror-stricken. 
Annie  would  probably  apply  for  a  divorce,  and  the 
thought  of  a  divorce  brought  her  no  joy.  She  knew 
men  well  enough  to  be  fully  aware  that  even  the  woman 
they  love  the  best  only  occupies  a  secondary  place  in 
their  existence.  The  Marquis  d'Anguilhon  revelled  in 
great  luxury,  the  power  that  a  large  fortune  gave  him, 
social  position,  and  prestige.  He  would  never  forgive 
her  for  the  odium  she  had  brought  upon  him,  for  the 
scandal  in  which  his  name  would  be  involved,  and  for 
the  breaking  up  of  his  home.  She  recalled  the  words 
she  had  heard  him  say  to  his  wife  and  she  realised, 
more  than  ever,  that  his  love-affair  with  her  was  only 

389 


390  AMERICAN  NOBILITY 

an  incident  in  his  life.  She  felt  that  Annie  was  more 
powerful  than  she  was.  The  scene  she  had  just  wit- 
nessed came  to  her  mind  again.  She  saw  little 
Philippe,  who  was  like  a  living  link,  drawing  together 
the  faces  of  his  mother  and  father.  She  felt  very 
insignificant  in  comparison  with  this  great  human 
trinity  and  her  heart  began  to  bleed  again  with  jeal- 
ousy. Then  she  began  to  think  of  her  uncle's  grief,  of 
the  pain  and  surprise  of  her  friends.  She  thought  of  the 
Keradieus  and  then  of  Louis  de  Challans  and,  as  though 
she  felt  their  contempt,  a  violent  colour  immediately 
suffused  her  cheeks.  She  could  brave  the  world  and 
public  opinion,  but  when  she  thought  of  her  friends, 
all  her  courage  left  her.  The  idea  of  suicide  consoled 
her.  She  would  find  a  way  to  escape  from  all  these 
horrors.  Death,  at  any  rate,  was  within  reach  of  her 
hand  and  not  beyond  her  courage.  She  now  tried  to 
imagine  the  interview  between  Jacques  and  his  wife. 
Just  as  she  was  saying  to  herself  that  she  should  never 
have  the  strength  of  mind  to  wait  until  the  next  day, 
in  order  to  hear  the  result  of  it,  a  letter  was  brought 
to  her  from  the  Marquis.  She  tore  the  envelope  open 
and,  with  her  heart  beating  wildly,  read  the  words : 

"  Everything  going  as  well  as  possible,  much  better 
than  we  might  have  expected.  Farewell  till  to- 
morrow." 

The  Duchess's  heart  was  greatly  relieved.  She  read 
the  words  over  several  times.  There  was  evidently 
to  be  no  divorce  then  and  no  scandal.  How  had 
Jacques  managed  to  pacify  his  wife?  Annie,  of  all 
women,  was  so  unbending  and  so  rigid  in  her  opinions. 
She  had  so  frequently  railed  against  women  who  for- 
give things  of  this  kind.  She  began  to  wonder  whether 
they  were  reconciled.    Curiously  enough,  she  then  won- 


AMERICAN  NOBILITY  391 

dered  whether  they  would  go  to  the  Amhassadeurs. 
This  idea  took  possession  of  her  tired  brain  and, 
dominating  all  her  other  thoughts,  pursued  and  worried 
her.  Finally,  Christiane  began  to  feel  that  pain  caused 
by  a  fixed  idea.  She  was  afraid  of  not  being  able  to 
go  to  sleep.  She  felt  that  she  must  have  complete 
oblivion,  non-existence,  for  a  time,  at  any  cost.  It 
occurred  to  her  that  Dr.  Moreau  might  help  her,  and 
she  sent  asking  him  to  come  at  once.  As  soon  as  he 
saw  Madame  de  Blanzac,  the  doctor  guessed  that  the 
catastrophe  he  had  foreseen  had  taken  place. 

"  I  want  you  to  give  me  twelve  hours  of  sleep,"  she 
said  to  him. 

"  As  much  as  that  ?  " 

"  Years  of  sleep,  if  you  could." 

Monsieur  Moreau  took  the  Duchess's  hand  in  his. 
The  quivering  nerves  and  the  uneven  pulse  revealed 
to  him  the  violence  of  the  shock  she  had  just  had.  His 
eyes  expressed  a  tender  pity  and  sympathy  which 
went  straight  to  Madame  de  Blanzac's  heart  and  made 
her  give  way  suddenly.  Two  big  tears  rolled  down 
her  cheeks. 

"  That 's  right,"  said  the  doctor,  in  a  voice  that 
showed  how  deeply  he  was  moved.  "  Do  not  try  to 
stop  your  tears.  Nothing  could  give  you  greater  re- 
lief. Discretion  forbids  my  questioning  you,  but  if 
you  need  a  friend,  on  whom  you  can  count " 

"  Yes,  I  do  indeed.  I  need  a  friend  like  you,  one 
who  understands  the  human  being,  body  and  soul. 
You  have  been  sent  to  me  by  Providence  to  help  me 
in  the  crisis  through  which  I  am  passing.  It  was  for 
that,  perhaps,  that  you  were  brought  into  the  circle 
of  my  existence." 

"  There  is  no  doubt  about  that  and  I  consider  myself 


392  AMERICAN  NOBILITY 

fortunate  to  have  been  chosen.  I  guessed  everything, 
some  time  ago.  When  I  saw  you  entering  upon  the 
dangerous  and  sorrowful  path  of  passionate  love,  I 
drew  nearer  to  you,  instinctively,  so  that  I  might  be 
able  to  help  you." 

"Well,  then,  the  time  has  come,"  said  the  Duchess, 
sadly.  "  It  would  be  diflScult  for  you  to  save  me, 
though." 

"  The  difiSculty  does  not  matter,  so  that  I  can  save 
you.  Tell  me  how  matters  stand.  You  need  have  no 
fear,  as  you  know  I  can  understand  it  all." 

Christiane  was  influenced  magnetically  by  the  kind- 
ness and  the  moral  force  of  this  essentially  superior 
man,  and  she  made  her  confession  with  a  rare  sin- 
cerity. And  the  doctor,  studying  this  woman's  soul 
thus  laid  bare  before  him,  followed,  with  keen  curi- 
osity, the  developments  of  the  passion  which  had 
ravaged  it.  He  noted,  with  astonishment  and  admira- 
tion, the  various  sentiments  this  passion  had  en- 
gendered. When  Madame  de  Blanzac  told  him  of  her 
mad  action,  he  turned  pale  with  emotion. 

"You  really  said  that?"  he  said,  trying  to  imagine 
the  frightful  scene. 

"  Yes,  I  did,  and  to  think  that  there  are  people  who 
will  not  admit  that  there  are  crimes  for  which  passion 
alone  is  responsible ! " 

"  People  who  have  not  studied  the  human  machine, 
though.  Those  who  have  studied  it  are  only  surprised 
that  these  accidents  do  not  happen  more  often.  When 
they  do  happen,  they  are  willed  by  God,  for  some 
reason  which  we  do  not  know.  You  are  one  of  the 
women  not  created  for  man,  but  to  command,  and  to 
accomplish  some  great  work." 

"  I  think  you  are  mistaken  there,  for  I  should  have 


AMERICAN  NOBILITY  393 

been  perfectly  happy  with  a  husband  of  my  choice  and 
children." 

"  No,  the  happiness  of  married  life  would  not  have 
sufficed  for  you  very  long.  You  have  too  pronounced 
an  individuality  for  that.  The  terrible  awakening  you 
have  just  had  will  enlighten  you  as  to  your  true 
vocation.  We  will  talk  of  that  later  on,  though.  For 
the  present,  we  must  only  think  of  averting  the  scandal 
which  threatens  you." 

The  Duchess  showed  the  doctor  Jacques'  letter.  His 
face  lighted  up  on  reading  it. 

"  We  are  saved,"  he  said,  in  a  tone  that  was  almost 
joyful.  "  The  young  Marchioness  evidently  under- 
stands that  she  will  lose  more  than  she  would  gain, 
by  making  a  scandal  of  it.  I  would  rather  know  that 
your  secret  is  in  her  hands  than  in  the  hands  of 
another  woman.  She  will  keep  silence  out  of  pride, 
and  she  is  one  of  the  women  who  can  keep  silence." 

The  doctor  saw  the  expression  of  intense  pain  that 
came  into  Christiane's  eyes. 

"  Try  not  to  think  of  the  future,"  he  said.  "  What 
is  the  use  of  thinking  about  it,  as  we  can  form  no 
accurate  idea  as  to  what  it  will  be.  When  we  are  young 
and  healthy,  the  idea  of  sickness,  old  age,  and  death 
seems  terrible.  When  these  things  come  to  us,  we 
scarcely  feel  them,  because  we  are  in  the  state  of  mind 
and  body  required.  If  any  one  had  told  you  what 
was  to  happen  to-day,  you  would  have  thought  that 
you  could  not  survive  it.  You  may  be  very  sure  that 
you  had  been  prepared  for  it  a  long  time  beforehand. 
When  you  are  yourself  again,  you  will  be  surprised 
that  you  did  not  sufifer  more.  What  you  need  now  is 
rest.  I  wish  I  could  just  lay  my  hands  on  you  and 
give  you  peace,  but  I  am  not  Christ,  alas!    All  I  can 


394  AMERICAN  NOBILITY 

do  is  to  calm  your  mind.  I  shall  send  you  two  cachets, 
which  you  must  take  in  an  hour's  time.  I  shall  come 
back,  later  in  the  evening,  to  see  whether  they  have 
produced  the  effect  I  hope." 

"  I  have  a  better  idea  than  that.  I  sent  for  you, 
and  I  am  supposed  to  have  a  very  bad  headache  indeed. 
Come  and  have  dinner  with  uncle,  and  then,  before 
leaving,  you  can  see  me  again." 

"  Agreed." 

With  this  word,  the  doctor  rose  to  go.  On  taking 
the  Duchess's  hand,  he  raised  it  to  his  lips,  in  »token 
of  respect.  This  was  a  thing  he  had  never  done  since 
he  had  known  her. 


CHAPTER  XXII 

Jacques  left  his  wife's  room  with  the  feeling  that 
he  had  just  won  a  victory.  The  certainty  that  there 
would  be  no  scandal  gave  him  such  relief  that  he  felt 
almost  happy.  As  soon  as  he  was  tranquil  in  his 
mind,  the  love  which  he  had  thought  dead  awakened 
again  within  him,  in  all  its  force.  All  the  delightful 
recollections  of  Christiane  the  last  two  years  came 
back  to  his  mind,  one  by  one. 

"  Fancy  spoiling  all  that ! "  he  said  to  himself  and 
he  shuddered  as  he  thought  of  the  extraordinary  scene 
which  had  taken  place.  The  Duchess's  violence,  which 
had  broken  all  bounds,  dishonoured  two  persons,  and 
wrecked  two  lives,  had  the  same  efiPect  on  him,  with 
his  ultra  refinement,  as  drunkenness  would  have  had. 
He  felt  a  mixture  of  horror  and  repulsion  at  the 
thought  of  such  violence.  His  heart  then  softened  with 
tenderness  and  pity,  as  he  thought  of  what  Christiane 
must  have  suffered.  He  wondered,  with  anguish,  how 
she  would  endure  the  situation  in  which  she  had  placed 
herself.  He  would  be  forced  to  side  with  his  wife  in 
the  pretended  quarrel  and  to  break  off  his  friendship, 
ostensibly,  with  the  Duchess.  Their  mutual  friends 
would  be  sure  to  try  to  act  as  mediators  and  the  secret 
would  then  most  certainly  leak  out.  His  common- 
sense  told  him  that  an  aflfair  of  this  kind  could  not 
be  hushed  up  as  easily  as  had  seemed  possible  at  first. 

395 


396  AMERICAN  NOBILITY 

It  was  just  a  moment's  respite  that  had  been  granted 
to  them  before  the  final  catastrophe.  He  wondered 
what  would  be  the  nature  of  this  catastrophe  and  who 
would  be  the  victim. 

"  God  grant  that  I  may  be  the  only  one ! "  he  said 
to  himself  in  all  sincerity. 

The  next  day,  Jacques  went  to  La  Rosette,  his  heart 
heavy  with  dread.  Christiane  did  not  come  forward 
to  meet  him,  as  usual.  He  found  her  in  the  drawing- 
room,  sitting  near  a  window.  The  dark  rings  under 
her  eyes  and  her  drawn  features  accentuated  her  re- 
semblance to  the  Addolorata  to  such  a  degree  that  he 
was  struck  by  it.  On  seeing  the  Marquis,  a  painful 
blush  rose  to  Christiane's  face.  There  was  a  sort  of 
embarrassment  between  them  and  they  felt  very  far 
away  from  each  other  for  a  moment.  Madame  de 
Blanzac  was  the  first  to  recover. 

"  Well,  what  happened  ?  "  she  asked,  looking  straight 
at  him  and  speaking  in  a  tranquil  tone. 

Instead  of  answering,  Jacques  knelt  down  in  front 
of  her  and,  clasping  in  his  hands  the  wrist  he  had 
gi'asped  so  roughly  the  evening  before,  he  exclaimed, 
passionately : 

"  Forgive  me,  Christiane ! " 

Madame  de  Blanzac  looked  at  him  for  a  few  seconds, 
with  infinite  sadness  in  her  eyes. 

"  Forgive  you !  "  she  repeated,  "  I  am  no  more  angry 
with  you  than  I  should  be  with  an  instrument  that 
had  wounded  me.  My  resentment  ought  rather  to  be 
against  Him  who  decided  my  destiny  and  sent  me, 
yesterday,  to  that  greenhouse.  Resentment  would  be 
stupid,  though,  as  I  do  not  know  the  reason  of  things, 
nor  yet  the  final  word.  I  believe  in  justice  and  in 
divine  goodness.    I  want  to  believe  in  all  that,  and 


AMERICAN  NOBILITY  397 

such  faith  at  the  present  moment  is  certainly  meri- 
torious. I  only  hope  it  may  be  reckoned  in  my  favour. 
Do  you  remember  what  you  said  to  me  the  other  day : 
*  Everything  has  to  be  bought  and  paid  for.'  Well,  I 
have  simply  paid,  that  is  all.  Do  not  let  us  talk  about 
that  any  more.  Sit  down,"  added  Christiane,  freeing 
her  hands. 

Jacques  obeyed  mechanically.  The  Duchess's  tone 
and  her  face,  from  which  every  reflection  of  love  had 
disappeared,  made  such  an  impression  on  him  that  he 
did  not  insist. 

"What  happened  between  you  and  your  wife?" 
Madame  de  Blanzac  asked  again,  and  then,  with  a 
shade  of  irony,  she  added : 

"  Have  you  obtained  forgiveness  ?  " 

"  I  did  not  ask  for  it,"  replied  the  Marquis,  with  a 
certain  dignity.  "  I  simply  told  her  the  truth.  I  am 
guilty,  but  I  do  not  care  to  appear  vile.  I  then  offered 
to  give  Annie  back  her  liberty.  She  declared  that,  on 
account  of  the  child  and  of  her  family,  she  did  not 
wish  for  a  divorce.  I  must  confess  that  this  decision 
lifted  a  great  weight  from  my  heart.  Neither  you  nor 
I  could  have  endured  the  scandal  of  a  divorce  suit." 

"  No,  probably  not." 

"  She  has  given  me  her  word  to  keep  absolute  silence 
about  what  has  passed,  and  I  am  sure  she  will  keep 
her  promise.  She  would  be  able  to  find  as  a  pretext 
for  breaking  off  her  friendship  with  you,  the  way  you 
had  criticised  American  women.  Every  one  knows 
how  susceptible  she  is  on  that  subject,  so  that  it  would 
be  quite  plausible.  She  is  going  to  Blonay  and  you 
are  going  to  Deauville,  so  that,  until  next  season,  you 
would  not  meet.     Between  now  and  then " 

"  Yes,  between  now  and  then,"  repeated  the  Duchess, 


398  AMERICAN  NOBILITY 

slowly,  and  then,  as  though  suddenly  seized  with  a 
sudden  fear,  she  asked : 

"And  did  your  wife  not  exact  anything?"  Chris- 
tiane  looked  fixedly  at  the  Marquis,  as  she  asked  this 
question. 

"Nothing  at  all.  She  merely  stipulated  that  she 
and  I  should  live  separate  lives.  That,  of  course,  goes 
without  saying." 

"  You  are  still  going  to  America  on  the  first  of 
July?" 

"  No,  all  that  is  changed.  Annie  does  not  care  to 
go  to  America  at  present.  She  thinks  we  might  go 
with  the  Keradieus  to  Sweden  and  to  Norway.  As 
she  has  often  regretted  that  we  were  not  going 
with  them,  the  change  of  plan  will  not  seem  very 
extraordinary." 

Jacques  took  a  low  seat  near  the  Duchess  and, 
raising  her  hands  to  his  lips,  kissed  them  several  times, 
without  her  attempting  to  withdraw  them. 

"  And  what  about  you,  Christiane,  what  are  you 
going  to  do?"  he  asked,  in  a  troubled  voice. 

"What  am  I  going  to  do?"  she  said,  lifting  her 
head.  "  Oh,  do  not  trouble  about  me.  I  have 
put  myself,  body  and  soul,  into  the  hands  of  Dr. 
Moreau." 

"  You  have  told  him ?  " 

"  Everything.  He  understands  human  nature  as 
well  as  a  priest  and  he  is  quite  safe.  I  needed  a  man 
like  him  to  help  me,  through  this  crisis — either  to  cure 
myself  or  to  die." 

"To  cure  yourself?"  exclaimed  Jacques.  "Do  you 
mean  to  destroy  the  love  which  is  all  my  happiness? 
Oh,  Christiane,  you  are  not  going  to  try  that?" 

"  Would  you  rather  I  died?  " 


AMERICAN  NOBILITY  399 

"  No,  you  have  no  right  to  take  yourself  away  from 
me  again,  either  by  death  or  by  trying  to  forget  the 
past.  You  belong  to  me  and  you  know  how  dearly  I 
love  you.  You  are  the  one  passionate  love  of  my  life. 
The  kiss  that  maddened  you  was  only  a  husband's 
kiss.     Cannot  you  understand  now  ?  " 

The  Duchess  turned  still  paler. 

"  Yes,  a  husband's  kiss,"  she  said,  "  a  more  divine 
and  holier  kiss  than  that  of  a  lover,  the  kiss  that 
creates.  The  one  I  had  longed  for  from  you,"  she 
added,  looking  down  again,  while  an  adorable  blush 
covered  her  face. 

Jacques  was  moved  to  the  very  depths  of  his  soul. 
He  bent  over  her  hands,  which  he  was  still  holding, 
and  kissed  them  very  tenderly  and  respectfully. 

"  I  do  not  know,"  continued  Christiane,  "  if  I  shall 
be  able  to  forget  you,  but  I  do  know  that  I  can  never 
again  be  yours.  I  had  never  really  felt  before  that 
you  belonged  to  another  woman.  I  can  no  longer 
doubt  it.  You  saw  the  effect  that  this  brutal  fact  had 
on  me.  Do  you  imagine  that  I  could  endure  this 
humiliating  and  painful  sharing  of  your  affections?" 

"  It  is  no  longer  a  question  of  sharing " 

Madame  de  Blanzac  shrugged  her  shoulders. 

"  The  separation  of  a  husband  and  wife,  living  under 
the  same  roof,  could  not  last  very  long.  Besides,  if 
you  are  to  have  any  more  children,  you  will  be  irre- 
sistibly drawn  towards  Annie.  She  will  forgive  you, 
because  she  loves  you,  and  you  will  soon  be  in  each 
other's  arms  again.  Such  is  life  and  such  is  the  law 
of  things.  I  have  gone  against  this  law  once,  but  I 
shall  not  brave  it  again.  For  my  own  dignity's  sake, 
I  give  you  back  your  liberty.  It  is  not  so  hard  to  do 
this  now,  of  my  own  free  will,  as  to  be  compelled, 


400  AMERICAN  NOBILITY 

later  on,  by  circumstances.  I  would  rather,  too,  that 
our  love  should  be  cut  off  in  its  flower  than  feel  it 
slowly  die.  I  am  sorry  about  my  violence,  for  Annie's 
sake.  At  present,  the  contempt  she  feels  for  you  will 
dominate  her  grief,  but  her  grief  will  reassert  itself. 
Poor  girl,  I  feel  as  though  I  have  hurt  a  child.  If 
she  were  only  French,  I  would  go  to  her  and  I  should 
be  able  to  alleviate  her  sorrow,  but  I  know  that  she 
would  not  understand  me." 

"  No,"  agreed  the  Marquis,  "  she  would  not  under- 
stand you  and  it  would  only  make  matters  worse  for 
you  to  attempt  to  see  her." 

"  Well,  then,  we  must  leave  time  to  do  its  work.  I 
have  promised  Dr.  Moreau  not  to  trouble  about  the 
future,  but  just  to  live  from  day  to  day.  I  am  going 
to  try  to  compel  my  mind  to  this  discipline.  You  had 
better  do  the  same.  We  cannot  divine  what  will  or 
what  will  not  happen.  And  now,  mon  ami/'  she  added, 
freeing  her  hands  again  from  those  of  Jacques,  "  we 
must  say  farewell." 

"  Never !  "  exclaimed  the  Marquis.  "  I  shall  see  you 
again.  You  think  you  can  uproot  our  love  in  this 
way?  Ah,  no,  it  is  too  deeply  and  firmly  planted 
within  us;  it  has  become  a  part  of  ourselves.  Do  it, 
if  you  can.  I  am  quite  easy  on  that  score,  though. 
Everything  here  will  speak  to  you  of  me  and  of  us. 
The  memories  which  will  emanate  from  every  single 
thing  will  affect  you,  will  make  you  relent,  and  will 
win  you  back  again." 

"  If  they  are  as  dangerous  as  all  that,  I  will  sell 
La  Rosette,  or  I  will  pull  the  house  down." 

"  You  are  cruel !  " 

"  Such  is  man's  egoism  I  You  want  me  to  go  on 
loving  you,  knowing  that  this  love  can  only  bring  me 


AMERICAN  NOBILITY  401 

sorrow.  You  ought  to  want  me  to  forget,  so  that  I 
might  get  back  my  peace  of  mind." 

"  No,  I  am  not  virtuous  enough  for  that." 

Christiane  rose  and,  with  intentional  hardness  in 
her  voice,  said: 

"  We  must  break  everything  ofif." 

"  Give  me  some  hope." 

"  No,  I  can  give  you  none.  You  must  accustom 
yourself  to  the  idea  of  a  definite  rupture  between  us, 
and  try  to  accept  it  as  bravely  as  possible." 

Jacques,  who  was  also  standing  up,  looked  at  the 
Duchess  a  few  seconds  in  silence.  He  had  never  seen 
her  look  so  charming,  so  absolutely  unlike  any  other 
woman.  Under  the  influence  of  memories  which 
seemed  to  be  a  part  of  his  very  being,  he  took  her 
in  his  arms  and  pressed  her  to  his  heart,  again  and 
again.  She  did  not  resist,  but  her  lips  remained  cold 
under  his  kisses,  her  body  inert,  and  there  was  no 
answering  vibration. 

Jacques'  arms  fell  in  amazement  and  he  drew  back, 
his  face  pale  with  emotion. 

"  You  no  longer  feel  anything  then,"  he  said,  in  a 
hoarse  voice.    "  Farewell,  if  that  is  so." 

He  went  away,  without  another  word,  possessed  by 
that  savage  anger  which  a  man  feels  when  he  is  de- 
feated, an  anger  which  dominates  all  other  sentiments. 
As  soon  as  the  door  closed,  Christiane  stretched  out 
her  arms. 

"  Jacques,"  she  cried,  with  her  whole  heart  and  soul. 

The  drawing-room  was  very  large  and  her  voice  was 
lost  in  it.  Christiane  shuddered,  for  she  had  a  sensa- 
tion of  utter  loneliness  and  of  the  end  of  things.  Then, 
with  her  head  bent  and  almost  staggering  like  some 
poor,  wounded  creature,  she  went  away  to  her  room. 

36 


CHAPTER  XXIII 

Annie's  resentment  had  been  somewhat  lessened  by 
Jacques'  confession.  Although  her  happiness  was  over, 
it  was  some  consolation  to  know  that  she  had  not 
been  married  solely  for  her  money.  She  wrote  at  once 
to  her  mother  and  told  her,  without  giving  any  reason, 
that  their  plans  were  changed  and  that  they  had  de- 
cided to  go  to  Sweden  and  Norway  with  the  Keradieus. 
It  cost  her  a  great  deal  to  write  this  letter,  and  several 
times  she  had  to  wipe  her  eyes,  as  they  were  misty 
with  tears. 

During  the  six  weeks'  excursion  with  her  friends, 
Annie  tried  to  enjoy  herself  and  to  take  an  interest 
in  what  she  saw.  For  the  first  time  in  her  life,  there 
was  something  in  her  very  soul  which  seemed  to  deaden 
all  curiosity,  make  her  quite  indifferent  to  places  and 
people,  something  which  took  from  her  all  enjoyment 
of  life.  Her  inability  to  get  rid  of  this  something 
made  her  furious  with  herself.  As  she  had  said,  she 
was  a  bad  actress,  and  it  was  very  diflScult  for  her 
to  appear  natural  with  Jacques.  When  he  spoke  to 
her,  she  always  felt  inclined  to  ask  him  how  he  dared. 
By  dint  of  tact  and  of  his  strong  will,  the  Marquis 
succeeded  in  making  her  play  her  part  more  easily 
and  give  to  their  intercourse  the  necessary  tone.  This 
was  a  great  point  gained. 

The  Keradieus  were  very  much  astonished  to  see 

402 


AMERICAN  NOBILITY  403 

their  friends  giving  up  the  journey  to  America  in 
such  a  sudden  way.  They  were  not  long  in  perceiving 
the  difiference  in  the  young  couple's  behaviour  to  each 
other.  Monsieur  de  Keradieu  said  nothing,  but  he  felt 
sure  that  there  had  been  a  serious  rupture  and  he  was 
convinced  that  Madame  de  Blanzac  had  something  to 
do  with  it. 

It  was  a  great  relief  to  the  young  Marchioness  when 
once  she  was  back  at  Blonay.  She  felt  that  people 
really  cared  for  her  there.  She  felt  a  certain  protec- 
tion, too,  in  a  whole  crowd  of  things,  in  the  affection 
of  her  mother-in-law,  the  friendship  of  the  priest,  and 
the  respect  of  every  one.  The  consciousness  of  her 
own  importance  was  a  sort  of  compensation  to  her. 
Her  duties  as  lady  of  the  manor  took  her  a  great  deal 
out  of  herself,  so  that  she  had  not  time  to  brood  much 
over  the  wrong  her  husband  had  done  her  and  the 
shameful  conduct  of  the  Duchess,  and  all  this  was 
certainly  for  the  best. 

Jacques  followed  the  line  of  conduct  he  had  laid 
down  for  himself  unswervingly,  and  made  no  attempt 
to  regain  the  good  graces  of  his  wife.  He  went  to 
her  rooms  at  the  hour  when  the  child  was  brought  to 
her,  and  talked  then  as  though  nothing  had  happened. 
He  rode  out  with  her  nearly  every  day,  and  did  all 
in  his  power  to  make  the  ride  as  pleasant  as  possible. 
Annie  had  tried,  at  first,  to  repel  him  by  her  silence 
and  stiffness,  but  he  had  not  appeared  to  notice  this. 
Although  she  received  his  attentions  with  studied  in- 
difference and  a  kind  of  disdain,  they  gave  her  pleasure 
all  the  same.  She  never  locked  her  door,  knowing 
that  Jacques  would  never  cross  the  threshold  without 
her  permission.  Whenever  she  heard  his  footsteps  in 
the  corridor  leading  to  their  rooms,  though,  she  always 


404  AMERICAN  NOBILITY 

felt  a  certain  emotion,  and  when  she  heard  him  pass 
by  without  knocking,  her  heart  was  very  heavy. 

Annie  began  to  read  novels  which  analysed  the 
passion  of  love.  The  various  stories  of  adulterous  love 
made  her  suffer  horribly,  but  still  she  wanted  to  know 
more  about  it.  Sometimes  the  book  would  fall  from 
her  hand  and  she  would  stop,  in  the  very  middle  of 
the  story,  to  reflect  that  it  was  in  this  way  that  her 
husband  had  loved  Madame  de  Blanzac.  He  had  said 
similar  words  to  her,  had  taken  her  in  his  arms,  and 
she  had  been  his.  The  idea  of  all  this  disgusted  her 
and  she  wondered  how  any  wife  could  forgive  and 
forget. 

Although  Annie  and  Jacques  were  very  much  on 
their  guard  in  the  presence  of  Madame  d'Anguilhon, 
she  was  not  long  in  discovering  that  things  were  not 
as  they  used  to  be.  Annie  was  quite  unconscious  of 
it,  but  her  face  reflected  the  resentment  and  the  anger 
and  sorrow  she  felt.  Her  gaiety,  too,  sounded  hollow. 
She  never  spoke  of  the  Duchess  now,  and  if  any  one 
mentioned  her  she  would  press  her  lips  together,  as 
though  to  prevent  herself  from  speaking,  and  her  face 
would  take  a  hard  expression.  Nothing  of  this  es- 
caped Jacques'  mother.  She  almost  guessed  the 
truth,  and  all  the  more  readily  as  the  intimacy  be- 
tween her  son  and  Madame  de  Blanzac  had  made  her 
rather  uneasy.  It  was  all  in  vain  that  Annie  told 
her  the  story  about  her  quarrel  with  Christiane,  on 
the  subject  of  American  women.  Madame  d'Anguilhon 
did  not  believe  it,  but  she  kept  her  suspicions  to  herself, 
and  was  doubly  kind  and  tender  to  her  daughter-in-law. 

Among  the  portraits  of  the  Anguilhon  family  was 
that  of  a  woman,  famous  in  all  the  eighteenth-century 
memoirs.     Though  her  husband  was  openly  unfaithful 


AMERICAN  NOBILITY  405 

to  her,  she  had  never  ceased  to  love  him.  When  he  fell 
into  disgrace  with  the  king,  whose  minister  he  was, 
she  employed  all  the  resources  of  her  heart  and  mind 
in  consoling  him  and  in  interesting  him  in  other  things. 
Later  on,  she  defended  him  successfully  before  the 
revolutionary  tribunal. 

Annie  knew  this  story.  She  had  often  admired  the 
noble-looking  face  of  the  "  Grande  Marquise,"  as  she 
was  always  called.  Jacques  had  once  told  her  that 
she  was  his  favourite  ancestress  and  that,  as  a  child, 
he  had  thrown  her  any  number  of  kisses.  This  por- 
trait annoyed  her  now.  When  she  passed  by  it,  she 
would  walk  more  quickly,  looking  at  it  sideways,  in 
a  most  comical  manner.  It  seemed  to  be  reproaching 
her  and  she  would  say  to  herself,  furiously :  "  I  am 
no  heroine,  it  would  be  the  climax  if  I  were !  "  As  she 
was  very  human,  though,  she  could  not  help  feeling  a 
certain  satisfaction  at  the  thought  that  other  Mar- 
chionesses d'Anguilhon  had  been  treated  as  she  had 
been.  They  were  French  women  and  were  beautiful 
and  witty,  but  they  had  had  the  same  fate.  This  was 
almost  a  consolation  to  her. 

The  Marquis  d'Anguilhon  went  to  Paris  from  time 
to  time,  and  Annie  imagined  that  it  was  to  meet  the 
Duchess.  During  his  absence,  she  had  a  pang  at  her 
heart  all  the  time.  When  he  returned,  she  felt  sud- 
denly relieved.  She  was  ashamed  of  herself  for  her 
weakness,  but  she  could  not  help  it. 

Grief  developed  Annie's  inner  life  better  than  years 
of  happiness  would  have  done.  Compelled  as  she  was 
to  fall  back  upon  herself,  she  began  to  reflect  about 
things  and,  as  a  natural  consequence,  she  talked  less 
and  thought  more.  She  took  great  pleasure  in  the 
society  of  the  priest  and  liked  arguing  with  him.     He 


400  AMERICAN  NOBILITY 

tried  to  lead  her  towards  the  regions  of  Christian 
idealism.  She  never  went  very  far  in  that  direction, 
but,  after  they  had  talked  together  for  a  time,  the 
things  of  this  world  and  her  own  grief  seemed  of  much 
less  importance  than  before.  She  liked  the  way  he 
always  called  her  "  my  child  "  and  she  began  to  think 
that  the  blessings  he  was  constantly  calling  down  on 
her  must  bring  her  happiness. 

The  Marquis  was  certainly  more  to  be  pitied  than 
his  wife.  His  conscience  reproached  him  for  having 
spoilt  Annie's  life  and  made  a  sort  of  widow  of  her. 
His  money,  his  thoroughbreds,  his  hunting  equipage, 
and  indeed  everything  which  he  owed  to  her,  weighed 
on  his  mind.  When,  in  accordance  with  a  clause  of 
the  marriage  contract,  he  was  obliged  to  sign  one  of 
the  big  American  cheques,  he  felt  something  very  much 
like  shame.  He  could  not  help  admiring  Annie's  atti- 
tude. Not  only  had  she  religiously  kept  the  secret  of 
his  unfaithfulness,  but  she  never  made  any  allusions 
which  would  have  been  hurtful  to  him,  or  indulged  in 
any  little  sarcasms  which  might  have  been  some  relief 
to  her  own  resentment.  He  was  grateful  to  her  for 
this.  The  husband  within  him  finally  began  to  find 
the  divorce  hard.  He  began  to  think  how  charming 
Annie  used  to  look  on  waking  in  the  morning.  Young 
and  healthy  as  she  was,  her  face  flushed  with  her  sleep 
and  a  halo  of  curly  hair  round  her  forehead,  she  was 
certainly  very  pretty  then,  and  never  had  the  Marquis 
felt  her  charm  so  much  as  now.  When  she  was 
nursing  little  Philippe,  he  would  kneel  down  in  front 
of  her  and  kiss  the  child  passionately,  hoping  that 
his  caresses  might  touch  the  mother's  heart.  When  he 
met  Annie's  cold  glance  and  saw  her  impassive  face, 
he  felt  defeated  and  repulsed. 


AMERICAN  NOBILITY  407 

On  the  other  hand  he  could  not  forget  Christiane  and 
he  could  not  bring  himself  to  believe  that  their  inter- 
course was  over  forever.  He  fully  realised  that  his 
life  would  be  terribly  empty  without  her.  He  often 
wrote  to  her,  but  she  never  answered  his  letters,  and 
it  was  all  in  vain  that  he  beseeched  her  to  let  him 
come  to  La  Rosette. 

Between  these  two  women,  who  kept  him  at  a  dis- 
tance with  equal  tenacity,  he  felt  almost  ridiculous. 
He  was  tempted  to  pack  his  trunks  and  fly  to  the 
other  end  of  the  world.  He  began  to  think  of  Africa 
once  more.  It  seemed  to  him  like  a  supreme  refuge, 
as  it  would  give  him  the  opportunity  of  rehabilitating 
himself  in  his  own  eyes. 

The  Duchess  really  suffered  much  more  than  Jacques 
and  Annie.  She  had  no  child,  no  living  consolation, 
as  it  were,  and  then  she  loved  the  Marquis.  In  spite 
of  her  efforts,  her  whole  being  yearned  towards  him. 
His  letters,  which  she  did  not  answer,  gave  her  that 
sensation  of  violent  happiness  which  had  become  neces- 
sary to  her.  She  drank  in  the  love  with  which  they 
were  impregnated  and  again  she  stretched  out  her 
arms  to  him.  She  felt  the  absolute  necessity  of  the 
sacrifice  she  was  making,  though,  and  she  tried  to 
resign  herself  to  it.  The  remembrance  of  her  mad 
act  was  peculiarly  painful  to  her.  It  humiliated  and 
crushed  her  and,  every  time  she  thought  of  it,  the 
colour  would  rise  to  her  face,  and  she  would  ask  her- 
self once  more  how  she  could  have  done  such  a  thing. 
At  times  she  hoped  for  the  reconciliation  of  Jacques 
and  his  wife  and  decided  that  she  would  help  to  bring 
it  about.  At  other  moments  she  dreaded  to  hear  that 
it  had  taken  place. 

Absorbed  by  all  these  thoughts,  which  crowded  to 


408  AMERICAN  NOBILITY 

her  mind  one  after  another,  Christiane  often  looked 
like  a  somnambulist.  She  was  nearly  always  looking 
down  when  she  walked  now,  her  eyes  had  no  longer 
their  decided  expression,  and  her  whole  body  had  lost 
something  of  its  proud  dignity.  Her  friends  noticed 
how  strange  she  was  and  thought  her  very  much 
changed.  Guy  de  Nozay  guessed  that  she  had  had  a 
great  sorrow  and  that  Jacques  was  the  cause  of  it. 
He  did  everything  he  could  to  divert  her  mind  and 
he  succeeded  in  this  sometimes. 

Dr.  Moreau  went  with  the  Duchess  to  Deauville. 
He  tended  her  physically  and  morally  with  marvellous 
skill.  He  tried  to  make  her  use  the  great  faculties 
of  her  mind  and  he  also  tried  to  raise  her  in  her  own 
estimation.  He  fought  against  Jacques'  influence, 
against  love  itself,  pointing  out  to  her  that  this  senti- 
ment, which  concentrates  all  the  thoughts  of  one 
creature  on  another  creature,  is  selfish  and  petty.  She 
would  smile  at  this  argument  and  answer :  "  Selfish 
and  petty,  if  you  like,  but  all  the  same  it  is  very  sweet 
and  very  powerful." 

Philosophy  and  humanitarian  ideas  most  certainly 
elevated  Christiane's  mind,  but  they  did  not  console 
her  as  simple  faith  might  have  done. 


CHAPTER  XXIV 

Nine  months  had  passed  by.  Annie  had  said  that 
she  was  no  heroine  and  the  abnormal  existence  that 
she  had  accepted  began  to  weigh  upon  her.  It  seemed 
to  her  that  she  was  living  a  perpetual  lie.  She  was 
hurt  that  Jacques  made  no  attempt  to  obtain  her  for- 
giveness. The  idea  that  he  had  probably  not  broken 
off  his  connection  with  the  Duchess  exasperated  her; 
and  her  irritation  began  to  manifest  itself  by  fits  of 
silence  and  a  certain  asperity.  One  day,  when  she 
had  said  something  hurtful  to  her  husband,  he  looked 
at  her  with  a  sad  expression  in  his  eyes. 

"What  is  the  good  of  that,  Annie?"  he  said.  "  If 
you  can  no  longer  bear  my  presence,  I  am  quite  ready 
to  give  you  back  your  liberty,  but  I  cannot  tolerate 
that  tone,  either  from  you  or  any  one." 

His  wife  avenged  herself  by  a  disdainful  shrug  of 
her  shoulders,  but  the  situation  caused  her  still  more 
pain  and  anger  after  this  remark. 

The  Marquis  and  Marchioness  d'Anguilhon  spent 
the  winter  at  Pau.  Neither  of  them  would  have  cared 
to  face  the  memories  which  Cannes  would  have  brought 
to  them. 

Urged  on  by  the  ungovernable  feminine  instinct, 
Annie  tried  to  excite  Jacques'  jealousy  and  make  him 
suffer  in  his  turn.  She  began  to  flirt  with  a  young 
man,  who  appeared  to  be  very  much  in  love  with  her. 

409 


410  AMERICAN  NOBILITY 

God  only  knew  how  little  she  felt  inclined  for  flirta- 
tion. The  Marquis  let  her  go  on  for  some  little  time, 
watching  her  from  a  distance.  The  day  came,  though, 
when  he  pulled  the  reins  with  a  very  firm  hand. 

"  You  are  playing  a  dangerous  game,"  he  said. 
"  This  young  idiot  will  soon  compromise  you.  The 
scandal  would  be  worse  for  you  than  obtaining  a 
divorce  from  me,  as  the  fault  would  be  on  your  side." 

Annie  did  not  reply.  She  felt  that  she  was  in  the 
wrong  and  was  rather  ashamed  of  herself. 

Poor  Catherine  was  the  one  to  get  the  brunt  of  her 
bad  temper.  The  old  servant  had  been  wonderfully 
patient.  She  had  thought,  at  first,  that  there  had 
been  a  lovers'  quarrel,  but,  as  time  went  on,  she  saw 
that  it  was  more  than  that  and  she  guessed  the  cause. 
She  always  looked  at  the  Marquis  now  with  such  in- 
dignation and  reproach  in  her  eyes  that  he  did  not 
care  to  meet  her. 

Jacques  dreaded  the  return  to  Paris  quite  as  much 
as  his  wife  did.  When  Annie  expressed  a  wish  to 
spend  the  season  in  England,  he  was  delighted.  It 
was  decided  that  they  should  take  little  Philippe  to 
Blonay,  where  Madame  d'Anguilhon  was  staying,  and 
remain  there  until  it  was  time  to  start  for  London. 
They  left  Pau  towards  the  end  of  March,  intending  to 
spend  four  or  five  days  in  Paris.  They  both  knew  that 
the  Duchess  de  Blanzac  was  not  yet  back  in  the  Rue 
de  Varenne. 

On  the  day  of  their  arrival,  they  lunched  with  the 
Keradieus.  The  Baroness  asked  them,  as  a  personal 
favour,  to  go  to  a  ball  that  was  being  given  the  fol- 
lowing day  at  the  H6tel  Continental.  It  was  organ- 
ised by  the  Duchess  de  Retz  and  was  for  the  benefit 
of  a  new  crdche.     It  was  to  be  a  very  fashionable 


AMERICAN  NOBILITY  411 

affair  and  at  the  same  time  very  exclusive.  Annie  was 
always  ready  for  anything  that  would  divert  her  mind 
from  her  own  worries,  so  that  she  did  not  need  any 
persuasion. 

The  Figaro  and  the  Gaulois  had  devoted  a  whole 
column  to  this  fete  and  had  so  well  succeeded  in  ex- 
citing the  charitable  feelings  of  some,  and  the  vanity 
of  others,  that  the  tickets  were  in  great  demand, 
although  they  cost  a  Lundred  francs  each. 

The  next  evening,  the  Marquis  and  the  Marchioness 
d'Anguilhon  arrived  at  the  H6tel  Continental  about 
eleven  o'clock.  They  stood  still  a  few  minutes  at  the 
entrance  to  the  large  drawing-room,  in  order  to  take 
in  the  general  effect. 

"  It  is  superb ! "  exclaimed  Jacques,  with  a  shade  of 
irony  in  his  voice. 

The  gilding,  the  marble,  the  flood  of  electric  light, 
the  gorgeous  dresses  with  a  profusion  of  jewellery  and 
diamonds  made  up  a  somewhat  garish  picture,  in  the 
midst  of  which  it  was  a  pleasure  to  distinguish  a  few 
aristocratic  figures  and  just  a  few  ladies  dressed  in 
perfect  taste. 

Two  foreign-looking  young  men  were  standing  in 
front  of  Jacques  and  Annie. 

"  What  a  nation !  "  exclaimed  one  of  them,  shrugging 
his  shoulders.  "  There  are  no  longer  any  people  but 
rastaquoueres  and  demi-mondaines"  he  added,  in  a 
contemptuous  tone. 

These  words  were  uttered  in  a  low  voice,  but  they 
reached  Jacques'  ear.  The  blood  mounted  to  his  face, 
his  eyes  flashed  ominously,  and  his  hand  came  down 
heavily  on  the  young  man's  shoulder. 

"  Monsieur,  what  do  you  mean — ?  "  began  the  young 
foreigner,  turning  round  quickly. 


412  AMERICAN  NOBILITY 

"  I  mean  that  there  are  still  some  gentlemen  in 
France,  and  I  am  ready  to  prove  it  to  you,  when- 
ever you  like,"  replied  Jacques.  "Consider  this  a 
challenge." 

The  two  young  men  were  completely  taken  aback. 

"  Monsieur !  "  they  both  exclaimed. 

"  Here  is  my  card,"  continued  the  Marquis.  "  In 
half  an  hour's  time,  I  shall  be  at  the  Jockey  Club  with 
my  seconds.    You  can  send  me  yours." 

The  young  man  was  visibly  disconcerted  by  this 
adventure.  He  bowed  and  gave  his  card  in  his  turn. 
Jacques  took  it,  bowed  slightly,  and  moved  on  with 
Annie.     She  was  very  pale  and  completely  upset. 

"  I  am  sorry  that  you  should  have  been  present  at 
that  scene,"  said  Jacques,  "  but  I  could  not  help  it." 

"  You  are  going  to  fight  a  duel  ?  " 

"Did  you  hear  what  he  said?" 

Annie  nodded. 

"And  you  ask  me  if  I  am  going  to  fight  a  duel? 
Why,  there  is  no  Frenchman  who  would  not  do  the 
same." 

The  Marchioness  was  hurt  by  her  husband's  tone. 
She  drew  herself  up  and  tightened  her  lips. 

"  Well,  take  me  to  the  Keradieus,"  she  said,  trying 
to  speak  indifferently. 

When  the  Baron  heard  what  had  taken  place,  he 
placed  himself  at  his  friend's  service.  The  two  men 
left  their  wives  in  charge  of  a  relative  who  happened 
to  be  there  and  went  to  their  club.  They  hoped  to 
find  Guy  de  Nozay  there  and  the  stranger's  seconds. 


CHAPTER  XXV 

The  Duchess  de  Blanzac  had  been  summoned  by  her 
lawyer  on  urgent  business,  and  had  arrived  in  Paris 
on  the  morning  of  the  day  which  was  to  end  so 
strangely  for  Jacques.  Whenever  she  came  like  this 
alone,  she  always  asked  her  uncle  to  take  her  in.  The 
house  in  which  he  lived,  at  the  bottom  of  her  garden, 
had  a  separate  entrance,  and  this  made  it  more  easy 
for  her  to  come  without  any  one  knowing  she  was 
there.  On  hearing  that  the  Anguilhons,  whom  she 
believed  to  be  still  at  Pau,  were  in  Paris,  she  was 
greatly  disturbed  in  her  mind  and  she  decided  that 
she  would  leave  at  an  early  hour  the  next  day.  After 
dining  alone  with  her  uncle,  she  went  to  the  Place 
Vend6me,  to  call  on  one  of  her  relatives,  the  Mar- 
chioness d'Alby,  a  kind-hearted  old  lady  who  was 
always  at  home  to  her  friends  every  evening. 

Towards  midnight,  some  of  the  people  who  had  been 
to  the  ball  at  the  Hdtel  Continental  were  telling  about 
it.  Count  de  Rueil  told  Madame  de  Blanzac  privately 
about  the  Marquis  d'Anguilhon's  provocation  and 
added  that  a  very  serious  duel  would  probably  be 
the  result.  By  an  extraordinary  effort  of  will-power, 
Christiane  managed  to  master  her  emotion  and  to 
learn  all  the  details. 

"  You  say  they  are  all  to  meet  at  the  Jockey  Club?  " 
she  asked. 

413 


414  AMERICAN  NOBILITY 

"  Yes,  they  are  there  now.  It  is  very  probable  that 
the  afifair  will  come  ofif  to-morrow." 

Christiane  was  seized  with  a  wild  desire  to  see 
Jacques  at  any  cost.  Her  plan  was  soon  made.  She 
slipped  into  the  library,  took  a  sheet  of  paper,  and 
wrote  the  following  words : 

"  I  have  just  heard  what  occurred  at  the  Continental. 
I  must  see  you  for  a  second.  I  am  waiting  for  you 
below,  in  my  carriage." 

After  putting  her  note  into  an  envelope,  she  returned 
to  the  drawing-room,  took  leave  quietly  of  the  Mar- 
chioness d'Alby,  and  managed  to  get  away  without 
attracting  attention.  It  was  nearly  one  o'clock  in  the 
morning  then.  Five  minutes  later,  her  carriage  drew 
up  in  the  Rue  Scribe,  a  few  steps  away  from  the 
Jockey  Club.  She  gave  her  missive  to  the  footman, 
with  orders  to  deliver  it  into  the  Marquis's  own  hands. 
Then  she  waited,  her  heart  beating  so  violently  that 
it  seemed  to  her  she  could  hear  it  outside  herself. 

After  a  few  minutes,  Jacques  came.  She  opened  the 
door  for  him  herself,  invited  him  to  get  in  the  carriage, 
and  then  gave  her  orders  to  the  footman. 

"  Drive  slowly  down  the  Boulevard  and  along  the 
Rue  Royale,  I  will  tell  you  where  to  stop." 

"  Christiane,  my  darling,"  exclaimed  Jacques,  seiz- 
ing the  Duchess  in  his  arms,  "  how  did  you  get  here?  " 

"  Oh,  that  does  not  matter,"  answered  Madame  de 
Blanzac,  freeing  herself  from  his  embrace.  "  When 
are  you  fighting  your  duel?  Do  not  tell  me  wrongly," 
she  added,  imperiously. 

Jacques  hesitated  a  moment  and  then,  meeting  the 
large  blue  eyes,  so  full  of  light,  he  answered: 


AMERICAN  NOBILITY  415 

"To-morrow,  at  nine  o'clock  in  de  Nolles*  garden 
at  St.  Germain." 

"What  weapon?" 

"  The  sword." 

Christiane  breathed  more  freely.  A  duel  with 
swords  seemed  to  her  less  brutal  than  with  pistols 
and  she  knew,  too,  that  the  Marquis  was  a  good 
swordsman. 

"  Who  is  your  adversary,  the  gentleman  who  thinks 
that  only  rastaquoudres  and  demi-mondaines  are  to  be 
found  in  France?" 

"  A  very  decent  man.  He  is  one  of  the  attaches  to 
the  Belgian  Embassy.  He  is  only  about  twenty-five 
or  twenty-six  and  he  spoke  thoughtlessly,  rather  than 
spitefully,  or  with  any  real  conviction.  He  has  even 
expressed  his  regret,  I  believe.  The  insult  was  to  my 
country,  so  that  I  could  not  accept  any  apology.  The 
arrangements  were  all  made  very  quickly,  so  that  I 
hope  to  give  the  Count  de  Chastel  what  he  deserves 
to-morrow,  and  modify  his  opinion  a  little  about 
France.     It  will  be  a  good  day's  work  for  me!" 

Jacques'  face  beamed  with  the  excitement  of  his 
patriotism  and  courage.  He  looked  much  younger 
than  he  really  was  at  that  moment,  and  the  Duchess 
gazed  at  him  with  passionate  admiration.  The  thought 
flashed  across  her  mind  that,  if  he  were  to  be  killed, 
he  would  never  belong  to  another  woman.  The  next 
second,  she  was  ashamed  of  herself  for  having  had 
such  a  thought. 

"  But  you  have  not  told  me  how  it  is  that  you  are 
in  Paris?"  asked  Jacques  again. 

"  I  was  sent  for  on  some  urgent  business.  I  in- 
tended starting  away  again  to-morrow  morning." 

"  Without  letting  me  know?  " 


416  AMERICAN  NOBILITY 

"  Certainly." 

"Oh,  Christiane!" 

"  Do  not  let  us  talk  about  ourselves  now.  Does 
Annie  know  about  this  duel  ?  " 

"  Yes,  unfortunately ;  she  was  present  at  the  scene. 
I  shall  tell  her  that  it  is  for  the  day  after  to-morrow." 

Madame  de  Blanzac  could  not  help  feeling  a  thrill 
of  joy  at  the  idea  that  she  alone  would  be  suffering 
on  Jacques'  account  and  keeping  the  vigil  that  night. 

They  were  now  driving  along  the  Rue  Royale. 

"  Where  shall  I  drop  you  ?  "  she  asked. 

"  At  the  Club  again.  Nozay  and  Keradieu  are 
waiting  for  me  there." 

The  Duchess  gave  the  necessary  order  and  the  car- 
riage turned  in  the  direction  of  the  Rue  Scribe.  The 
Marquis  put  his  arm  round  Christiane's  shoulders  and 
drew  her  to  him.  The  great  silence  of  perfect  commun- 
ion of  souls  fell  between  them  and  they  experienced  a 
moment  of  extraordinary  and  absolutely  pure  happi- 
ness. The  stopping  of  the  carriage  put  an  end  to  their 
ecstasy.  They  gazed  at  each  other  for  a  few  seconds  as 
though  each  would  have  liked  to  carry  the  other  away. 
Jacques  then  kissed  the  hand  that  lay  in  his. 

"  Farewell,  my  beloved  one,"  he  said,  in  a  changed 
voice. 

"  Farewell.  Do  not  keep  me  waiting  a  minute  longer 
than  necessary  to-morrow,  for  the  result.  May  God 
help  you ! " 

The  Marquis  got  out  of  the  carriage,  closed  the  door 
after  him  very  slowly,  and  then  stood  bareheaded  until 
it  moved  away.  Christiane  leaned  forward  for  a  last 
look  at  him  and  then  threw  herself  back  in  the  car- 
riage. She  had  felt  that  sudden  wrench  at  her  heart 
which  is  the  harbinger  of  eternal  separations. 


CHAPTER  XXVI 

The  Marquis  d'Anguilhon  and  his  two  friends  went 
back  to  the  Hotel  Continental  from  the  Club.  In  the 
most  natural  way  possible,  they  explained  that,  as  the 
Count  de  Chastel  had  not  been  able  to  get  his  other 
second,  the  arrangements  would  have  to  be  made  the 
following  morning.  This  seemed  such  a  likely  story 
that  Annie  did  not  doubt  it.  During  their  drive  home, 
Jacques  chatted  in  a  lively  way,  in  order  to  reassure 
her.  He  did  not  succeed  in  diverting  her  thoughts 
from  the  duel,  though. 

"  Are  you  a  good  swordsman  ?  "  she  asked,  suddenly. 

"  Yes,  I  am  pretty  good,"  he  answered. 

"  And  a  good  shot  ?  " 

"  I  am  not  a  bad  shot." 

"  What  a  horrible  thing!  "  exclaimed  the  young  wife, 
as  though  talking  to  herself. 

"  What,  duelling?  What  would  an  American  have 
done  in  my  place?  " 

"  Knocked  the  man  down." 

"  Well,  it  seems  to  me  that  our  method  of  proceed- 
ing is  less  barbarous.  In  the  first  place,  it  rouses 
courage,  and  courage  redeems  the  insult  and  increases 
the  dignity  of  the  one  who  has  been  insulted.  I  assure 
you  that  duels  do  good.  They  stir  the  soul.  A  man 
has  to  put  his  affairs  in  order,  he  thinks  over  his  past 
life  and  makes  good  resolutions  for  the  future.     He 

27  417 


418  AMERICAN  NOBILITY 

may  not  keep  the  good  resolutions,"  he  added,  with 
a  smile,  "  but  at  any  rate  he  makes  them,  and  that 
is  a  step  towards  wisdom." 

"  Have  you  ever  fought  a  duel?" 

"  Yes,  two." 

«  Ah ! " 

Annie  longed  to  ask  for  whom  and  for  what  reason, 
but  she  did  not  dare. 

"  What  a  good  thing  your  mother  is  not  here ! "  she 
said. 

"  She  would  approve,  I  am  sure." 

"That  would  not  prevent  her  from  suffering  horri- 
bly, if  she  only  knew." 

"  She  would  suffer  a  great  deal  more  if  she  saw  me 
take  no  notice  of  such  words  as  we  heard  to-night. 
You  are  not  French,  Annie,  but  I  feel  sure  that  you 
would  not  have  liked  me  to  act  otherwise." 

"  No,"  she  replied,  in  a  decided  tone,  "  I  should  not." 

"  I  am  glad  to  hear  that." 

"  When  are  you  to  see  these  men  again  ?  " 

"  To-morrow  morning." 

"  Will  you  promise  to  tell  me  the  day  and  the  hour 
of  the  duel  ?  "  asked  Annie,  in  a  broken  voice. 

Jacques  hesitated  a  moment  and  then  said,  simply : 

"  Yes,  I  promise." 

"  Thank  you." 

This  word,  which  implied  such  absolute  confidence 
on  his  wife's  part,  caused  the  Marquis  ^ome  remorse. 
He  was  on  the  point  of  telling  her  the  truth,  but,  on 
reflection,  he  felt  that  it  would  be  inflicting  several 
hours  of  intense  anxiety  on  her.  She  did  not  realise 
what  it  would  mean  and,  considering  the  terms  on 
which  they  now  were,  he  felt  that  he  ought  not  to 
allow  her  to  suffer  on  his  account.     He  therefore  de- 


AMERICAN  NOBILITY  419 

cided  to  keep  silence.  On  reaching  the  door  of  her 
suite  of  rooms,  Annie  turned  to  her  husband. 

"  Shall  you  lunch  at  home?"  she  asked. 

"  I  hope  so,"  answered  Jacques,  with  a  half  smile, 
"  and  if  I  do,  Guy  and  Henri  will  be  with  me." 

"  Good-night,"  she  said,  and  then,  obeying  an  irre- 
sistible impulse,  she  held  out  her  hand  to  her  husband. 
He  took  it  and  clasped  it  heartily  twice  over.  Annie 
went  quickly  into  her  room,  as  though  she  were 
ashamed  of  her  action.  Catherine  was  awaiting  her, 
as  usual. 

"Did  you  enjoy  yourself?"  asked  the  old  nurse, 
helping  her  ofif  with  her  cloak. 

"  Enjoy  myself !  " 

This  question  was  all  that  was  needed  to  make 
Annie  give  way  at  last  to  her  pent-up  feelings.  She 
sank  down  on  an  armchair  and  the  tears,  which  she  had 
kept  back  all  the  evening,  flowed  freely  at  last. 

"Miss  Annie,  Miss  Annie,  what  is  the  matter?" 
exclaimed  Catherine,  in  dismay.  "  What  have  they 
done  to  you?" 

As  her  young  mistress  did  not  reply,  the  poor  woman 
knelt  down  in  front  of  her  and  began  kissing  her 
hands.  Annie  drew  them  quickly  away,  as  she  very 
much  disliked  demonstrations  of  this  kind.  Battling 
with  herself,  she  tried  to  regain  her  self-possession. 

"  Monsieur  d'Anguilhon  is  going  to  fight  a  duel 
to-morrow,  no,  I  mean  the  day  after  to-morrow,"  she 
said,  in  a  firm  voice. 

Glad  to  be  able  to  relieve  her  own  feelings  by  con- 
fiding in  some  one,  she  told  Catherine  what  had  taken 
place  at  the  Hdtel  Continental. 

The  Irishwoman's  face,  as  she  listened,  expressed  all 
kinds  of  feelings. 


420  AMERICAN  NOBILITY 

"  Monsieur  le  Marquis  was  quite  right,"  she  said, 
getting  up. 

"  Yes,  I  know  that,  but  he  will  be  risking  his 
life." 

"  There  is  a  good  God  above  us  and  the  Holy  Virgin," 
said  Catherine,  with  all  the  conviction  of  that  faith 
which  transports  mountains. 

Guided  by  her  tact  and  by  her  almost  maternal 
affection,  she  succeeded  in  tranquillising  her  young 
mistress.  When  Annie  was  in  bed,  Catherine  kissed 
her  and  said: 

"  Sleep  well,  my  darling.  I  will  go  quite  early  to 
Notre-Dame  des  Victoires.  I  will  have  a  mass  said 
and  a  candle  burnt." 

This  idea  seemed  so  childish  to  Annie  that  she  could 
not  help  smiling. 

As  soon  as  she  was  alone,  she  tried  to  go  to  sleep, 
but  in  the  silence  and  darkness  her  brain  was  still 
more  active.  The  scene  at  the  H6tel  Continental  came 
to  her  mind  again.  She  saw  her  husband  turn  sud- 
denly pale  and  she  saw  the  savage  expression  on  his 
face,  as  he  listened  to  the  foreigner's  words. 

"  Oh,  no,"  she  thought,  "  he  would  never  accept  an 
apology,  he  is  sure  to  fight." 

She  tried  to  remember  the  details  of  the  various 
duels  about  which  she  had  read.  A  few  weeks  pre- 
viously, there  had  been  one  on  the  Grande  Jatte 
Island,  which  had  ended  fatally.  An  illustrated  paper 
had  given  a  picture  of  the  young  man  lying  dead  on 
the  billiard-table  of  a  restaurant.  She  had  been  very 
much  impressed  by  the  horror  of  it  and  now  the 
thought  of  this  picture  quite  upset  her.  Duelling 
seemed  distinctly  barbarous  to  her.  Just  now,  in  the 
carriage,  she  had  been  very  brave,  but  at  present  she 


AMERICAN  NOBILITY  421 

felt  quite  faint.  On  seeing  her  husband  threatened 
by  danger,  she  had  drawn  nearer  to  him,  instinctively, 
forgetting  what  separated  them.  The  remembrance  of 
her  grievance  came  back  to  her  in  all  its  force.  How 
could  he  have  deceived  her  so  basely?  She  could  see 
no  excuse  for  him.  Was  she  to  let  him  go  to  this 
duel,  though,  without  a  friendly  word?  That  meant 
that  she  must  forgive  him.  She  said  to  herself  that 
this  would  be  impossible,  but  even  as  she  said  the 
words  the  idea  that  it  was  her  duty  to  forgive  him 
formulated  itself  clearly  in  her  conscience.  This  sen- 
timent of  duty  revealed  to  her  suddenly  the  grandeur 
of  her  title  as  wife.  Her  rights  over  Jacques  were 
very  much  above  those  of  a  mistress.  The  odiousness 
of  this  name  of  mistress  gave  her  pleasure.  With 
childish  satisfaction,  she  recalled  the  fact  that  she  had 
been  married  three  times:  once  before  the  Mayor,  once 
before  the  Consul  of  the  United  States,  and  then  be- 
fore the  Catholic  Bishop.  The  beautiful  formula  of 
the  English  marriage  service  came  to  her  mind :  "  to 
have  and  to  hold,  from  this  day  forward,  for  better, 
for  worse,  for  richer,  for  poorer,  in  sickness  and  in 
health,  to  love  and  to  cherish,  till  death  us  do  part." 
Ah,  that  was  indeed  a  bond  and  she  certainly  ought 
to  forgive.  How  happy  she  felt,  too,  to  be  obliged  to 
do  so!  If  her  husband  were  to  be  killed,  she  would 
then  have  no  remorse.  At  the  bare  idea  of  the  awful 
possibility  of  her  husband  being  killed,  all  petty  feel- 
ings vanished  from  Annie's  mind  and  the  love  she  had 
tried  to  drive  away  returned  in  all  its  force,  like  a 
ray  of  sunshine.  As  soon  as  she  woke  in  the  morning, 
she  would  go  to  Jacques.  She  did  not  know  what  she 
would  say  to  him,  but  she  was  sure  he  would 
understand. 


422  AMERICAN  NOBILITY 

As  soon  as  she  had  made  this  resolution,  she  had 
a  sensation  of  infinite  peace  and  well-being,  and  she 
went  to  sleep  with  the  divine  joy  of  forgiveness  in  her 
heart. 


CHAPTER  XXVII 

On  entering  his  room,  the  Marquis  d'Anguilhon 
gave  orders  to  his  valet  to  call  him  at  seven  o'clock 
punctually,  and  then  dismissed  him.  He  sat  down  for 
a  few  minutes  near  the  fire  and  then,  getting  up,  began 
to  pace  up  and  down  the  room  with  long  strides. 

"  Only  rastaquouires  and  demi-mondaines  left  in 
France,"  he  muttered  between  his  clenched  teeth.  The 
words  once  more  roused  savage  anger  within  him. 
He  had  thought  that  he  no  longer  cared  for  this 
republican  France,  ruled  by  the  bourgeoisie.  He  had 
paid  his  debt,  in  the  way  of  military  service,  grudg- 
ingly, and  he  had  imagined  that  he  no  longer  cared 
what  happened  to  his  country.  This  evening,  though, 
when  he  had  heard  it  insulted,  the  blood  had  rushed 
to  his  face,  as  though  he  had  been  attacked  personally. 
He  had  realised  then  how  dear  it  was  to  him,  dearer 
than  mother,  son,  or  wife,  dearer  than  everything  else. 
And  he  was  going  to  fight  for  his  country.  The 
thought  of  this  filled  his  heart  with  joy  and  lighted 
up  his  face.  The  old  saying  which  declared  that 
there  would  always  be  love,  glory,  and  money  for  a 
d'Anguilhon  was  proved  true  once  more.  The  glory 
had  now  come. 

As  he  said  this  to  himself,  he  sat  down  again  near 
the  fire.  His  excitement  soon  died  away.  He  thought 
of  the  past  and  of  the  future  and  gradually,  from  the 

423 


424  AMERICAN  NOBILITY 

very  depths  of  his  soul,  came  a  longing  to  die.  Life 
without  Christiane  would  be  too  painful,  and  with  her, 
too  base.  The  impression  he  had  had  during  their  last 
interview  came  back  to  him.  He  felt  very  distinctly 
that  they  had  seen  each  other  for  the  last  time,  and 
that  their  farewell  had  been  final.  Yes,  he  should 
probably  be  killed.  It  did  not  matter,  though,  as  he 
was  leaving  a  son,  so  that  everything  was  satisfactory. 
It  would  be  a  noble  death,  the  noblest  he  could  imagine. 
For  a  few  moments,  a  gloomy  and  sorrowful  expression 
came  over  the  face  of  the  Marquis.  He  was  probably 
thinking  over  all  the  things  he  cared  for,  and  he  still 
cared  for  many  things  in  this  world.  Then,  suddenly, 
as  though  the  sacrifice  were  now  made,  his  face  lighted 
up  once  more.  He  drew  himself  up  with  a  proud 
gesture  and  went  across  to  his  writing-table. 

Jacques  now  made  his  will.  With  moist  eyes, 
he  then  wrote  to  his  mother  and  to  his  wife.  In  his 
letter  to  Annie,  he  confided  to  her  the  honour  of  his 
name,  his  mother,  his  child,  all  that  was  most  pre- 
cious to  him.  He  then  wrote  a  few  lines  for  his  son. 
When  he  had  done  this,  he  looked  through  his  drawers 
and  burnt  various  papers.  As  he  went  on,  his  face 
gradually  became  more  calm  and  resolute.  When  he 
had  quite  finished,  he  took  a  last  look  round,  and  he 
then  left  his  study,  convinced  that  he  should  never 
see  it  again. 

The  Marquis  had  less  than  three  hours'  sleep.  This 
was  quite  enough,  though,  to  revive  him.  His  bath 
gave  to  his  limbs  the  elasticity  they  needed.  He  felt 
strong,  in  good  form,  and  in  possession  of  all  his 
powers.  His  eyes  were  bright  and  clear.  Never  had 
any  rendezvous  in  his  love  affairs  put  such  fire  into 
his  eyes,  nor  so  triumphant  an  expression  on  his  face. 


AMERICAN  NOBILITY  425 

Jacques  was  to  go  first  to  the  Rue  Vaneau  and  call 
for  Monsieur  de  Keradieu,  Guy  de  Nozay,  and  the 
surgeon.  Before  leaving,  he  went  to  the  nursery  to 
kiss  his  boy.  When  he  opened  the  door,  the  child,  who 
was  already  dressed,  ran  to  him.  Jacques  lifted  him 
up,  held  him  at  arm's  length  for  a  moment,  and  then 
stood  him  up  on  the  table.  He  gazed  at  the  sturdy 
lad  with  great  pride. 

"Where  are  you  going?"  asked  the  child,  aware 
that  these  early  visits  of  his  father  usually  meant  his 
departure. 

"  Not  far  from  here  just  now,  but  later  on,  perhaps 
very,  very  far." 

"  Oh,  no,  not  far,"  pleaded  the  little  one,  with  a 
distressed  look. 

"  You  must  promise  to  be  very  good  while  I  am 
away,"  said  the  Marquis,  in  an  authoritative  tone. 
"  You  must  not  give  your  mother  any  trouble  and 
you  must  always  obey  her,"  he  continued.  "  Do  you 
promise?" 

"  Yes,"  answered  the  child. 

"  Then  give  me  a  kiss,  one  of  your  very  biggest." 

Philippe  adored  his  father  and  did  not  require  ask- 
ing twice.  He  threw  his  little  arms  round  his  neck, 
hugging  and  kissing  him  with  all  his  might. 

Jacques'  eyes  were  misty  with  tears  when  he  lifted 
the  boy  down.  He  imt  his  hand  on  the  child's  head 
for  a  moment,  in  sign  of  blessing,  and  then  turned 
to  go  away.  Philippe  clung  to  his  legs  and  looked  up 
at  him,  with  the  beautiful,  golden  brown  eyes  of  the 
Anguilhons. 

"  Not  far  away,  please,"  pleaded  the  child. 

The  Marquis  was  very  deeply  affected.  He  freed 
himself    from    the    boy's    embrace,    kissed    him    once 


426  AMERICAN  NOBILITY 

more,  and  weut  away,  without  daring  to  look  round 
again. 

"  He  will  remember  m^"  he  thought,   with   satis- 
faction. 


CHAPTER  XXVIII 

At  the  very  moment  when  Jacques  left  the  house, 
Annie  woke  with  a  start,  as  though  warned  by  some 
secret  voice.  She  at  once  recalled  what  had  taken 
place  the  previous  evening.  She  must  see  Jacques 
before  the  arrival  of  his  seconds.  She  sprang  out  of 
bed  and  dressed  quickly.  At  the  thought  of  what  she 
was  going  to  do,  a  furtive  blush  came  to  her  face,  and 
her  fingers  trembled  in  tying  her  ribbons  and  arrang- 
ing her  hair.  In  spite  of  her  anxiety,  she  looked  at 
herself  in  the  glass  and  tried  to  make  herself  look  as 
pretty  as  possible.  As  soon  as  she  was  ready,  she  went, 
with  a  beating  heart,  and  knocked  at  her  husband's 
dressing-room  door.  As  she  received  no  answer,  she 
ventured  to  go  in.  Not  only  was  Jacques  not  there,  but 
the  room  was  already  in  order.  It  looked  as  though  he 
had  not  slept  there.  She  rang  the  bell  and,  in  reply 
to  her  questions,  was  informed  that  her  husband  had 
left  the  house  without  giving  any  orders. 

She  went  back  to  her  room,  feeling  sad  and  disap- 
pointed, but  without  suspecting  the  truth.  Jacques 
had  promised  to  tell  her  the  day  and  hour  of  the  duel. 
This  promise  appeared  to  her  sacred  and  she  never 
even  imagined  it  possible  to  break  it.  She  paced  up 
and  down  her  room  for  a  few  minutes  and  then  sent 
for  little  Philippe.  The  child  climbed  on  to  her  lap 
at  once,  nestled  up  to  her,  and  said,  in  a  sorrowful 
little  voice: 

427 


428  AMERICAN  NOBILITY 

"  Papa  gone !  " 

"  Gone!"  The  word  was  like  a  blow  to  Annie.  It 
seemed  to  echo  in  her  heart. 

"Where  has  papa  gone?"  she  asked  the  child,  in 
an  altered  voice. 

"  P'raps  very  far " 

Annie  put  the  child  down  and,  to  his  great  grief, 
called  Catherine  to  take  him  back  to  the  nursery. 

She  had  been  deceived  once  more!  He  had  very 
likely  gone  to  fight  the  duel. 

When  Catherine  came  back  from  the  nursery,  Annie 
asked  her  briefly: 

"  What  have  you  heard  ?  " 

"  Nothing,"  replied  Catherine,  "  except  that  Mon- 
sieur le  Marquis  went  into  the  nursery  to  kiss  baby 
before  going  out." 

"  Give  me  my  hat.  I  am  going  to  the  Keradieus'.  I 
must  know  what  is  happening." 

Just  at  this  moment,  Madame  de  Keradieu  arrived. 
She  was  about  to  kiss  Annie,  as  usual,  but  the  latter 
pushed  her  aside  abruptly. 

"  The  duel  was  for  this  morning.  You  have  all 
deceived  me.     It  is  abominable." 

"  We  wanted  to  spare  you  a  cruel  anxiety,"  said 
Madame  de  Keradieu,  gently. 

"  Ah,  you  do  not  know  all  that  it  means ! "  exclaimed 
Annie. 

The  thought  that  she  had  not  been  reconciled  with 
her  husband  caused  her  the  most  violent  grief.  Madame 
de  Keradieu  tried  to  comfort  her  by  telling  her  that 
Jacques  was  an  excellent  swordsman,  that  he  was  in 
very  good  practice,  and  that  he  had  his  two  best  friends 
as  seconds. 

"  What  time  is  it  to  take  place?  "  asked  Annie. 


AMERICAN  NOBILITY  429 

"  At  half  past  nine.  The  meeting  is  at  St.  Germain. 
It  is  ten  o'clock  now,  so  that  we  shall  soon  have  news. 
Henri  is  to  send  me  a  wire." 

By  way  of  diverting  Annie's  thoughts,  Madame  de 
Keradieu  told  her  all  that  had  taken  place  at  the 
Club.  Half  an  hour  passed  and  still  the  telegram  had 
not  arrived.  The  two  women  sat  there  waiting  in 
great  suspense,  and  the  silence  that  fell  between  them 
was  full  of  anguish. 

Presently  Annie  heard  the  sound  of  carriage  wheels. 

"  Here  they  are !  "  she  exclaimed. 

They  rushed  to  the  hall  and  Antoinette  de  Keradieu 
went  outside  to  hear  the  first  news.  Annie  stood  still, 
as  though  paralysed,  gazing  at  the  door.  At  the  end 
of  a  few  seconds,  her  friend  returned,  accompanied  by 
Guy  de  Nozay. 

"  Do  not  be  alarmed !  "  cried  the  latter. 

"  Jacques  ?  " 

"  Safe,  but  not  quite  sound.  He  is  wounded,  but 
not  seriously." 

Annie  turned  pale. 

"  You  are  probably  deceiving  me  again,"  she  said, 
with  trembling  lips. 

Guy  took  her  hands  in  his. 

"  Look  at  me,"  he  said.  "  Do  I  look  like  a  man 
threatened  with  losing  his  dearest  friend?" 

Annie  felt  reassured. 

"  Your  husband  is  slightly  wounded  just  above  the 
left  lung.  It  is  very  likely  that  the  surgeon  will  not 
allow  him  to  be  brought  back  to  Paris  to-day.  He  is 
at  de  Nolles'  and  in  good  hands.  I  have  come  to  fetch 
you  both,"  added  the  Viscount,  looking  at  Madame  de 
Keradieu. 

"  And  what  about  Jacques'  adversary?"  she  asked. 


430  AMERICAN  NOBILITY 

"  Ah,  poor  fellow,  he  will  have  some  difficulty  in 
getting  over  it." 

Annie  never  thought  of  expressing  any  pity  for  the 
Count  de  Chastel. 

"  I  will  go  and  get  ready,"  she  said. 

On  entering  her  bedroom,  she  found  Catherine  there. 
Throwing  her  arms  round  her  nurse's  neck,  she  said : 

"  He  is  wounded.  Go  and  burn  candles  at  Notre- 
Dame  des  Victoires.  Pray  to  all  your  saints,  do 
everything,  everything,  so  that  he  shall  not  die." 

She,  too,  had  become  a  child  again,  in  her  distress. 

"  He  will  not  die,  my  dear,"  answered  Catherine, 
with  her  admirable  faith. 

On  the  way  from  Paris  to  St.  Germain,  Guy  told  the 
two  women  all  the  incidents  of  the  affair. 

"  It  was  one  of  the  finest  duels  I  ever  witnessed," 
he  said.  "  Such  courage  and  generosity  on  both  sides 
— Jacques  was  foolishly  rash,  though.  He  positively 
played  with  death.  It  is  a  perfect  miracle  that  he  got 
off  so  well." 

These  words  filled  Annie's  heart  with  remorse. 

"Is  this  Belgian  seriously  wounded?"  asked  Madame 
de  Keradieu. 

"  I  am  afraid  so.  He  was  wounded  in  the  region  of 
the  liver.  They  were  obliged  to  take  him  to  the  Henri 
IV  pavilion.  I  hope  he  will  get  over  it,  as  much  for 
Jacques'  sake  as  his  own.  It  cannot  be  very  comfort- 
able, as  Madame  d'Anguilhon  would  say,"  added  Guy, 
with  a  smile,  "  to  have  a  man's  death  on  your  con- 
science, and  especially  when  he  is  a  very  decent 
man,  as  this  one  is.  He  had  left  a  letter  with  his 
seconds,  in  which  he  expressed  his  regret  and  offered 
an  apology.    How  rash  and  yet  how  fine  youth  is ! " 

The  nearer  they  got  to  the  end  of  their  journey,  the 


AMERICAN  NOBILITY  431 

more  disturbed  was  Annie  in  her  mind.  What  sort 
of  a  welcome  would  her  husband  give  her?  Would 
he  be  glad  to  see  her?  How  she  would  nurse  him  and 
watch  over  him ! 

A  carriage  was  awaiting  the  travellers  at  the  station 
and  Monsieur  de  Keradieu  was  there  to  meet  them. 
On  arriving  at  the  house,  the  Prince  de  Nolles  wel- 
comed the  Marchioness  with  a  few  affectionate  words. 

"  Summon  up  all  your  American  coolness,"  he  said. 
"  A  wounded  man  is  always  an  alarming  sight,  but  T 
assure  you  there  is  nothing  to  fear." 

He  then  opened  a  door  on  the  ground  floor  and 
showed  Annie  into  a  drawing-room.  She  went  forward 
a  few  steps  and  then  stood  still,  as  though  nailed  to 
the  spot,  her  eyes  dilating  under  the  influence  of  the 
strongest  and  most  powerful  sentiments  in  human 
nature. 

At  the  far  end  of  the  room,  Jacques  was  lying  with 
closed  eyelids  on  a  wide  divan.  He  was  deadly  pale 
and  his  features  were  drawn  with  suffering.  At  his 
side,  with  her  fingers  on  his  pulse,  was — the  Duchess 
de  Rlanzac. 

This  was  enough  to  deprive  Jacques'  wife  not  only 
of  the  use  of  her  limbs,  but  of  her  reason.  Her  first 
idea  was  to  go  away  again,  but  on  looking  again  at 
her  husband,  she  believed  that  he  was  dying.  Remem- 
bering that  she  was  his  wife,  she  resolved  to  assert 
her  rights,  and  she  advanced  towards  the  bed. 

"  This  is  my  place,"  she  said  to  Christiane,  looking 
at  her  unflinchingly,  and  speaking  in  a  hard  voice. 

"  I  am  aware  of  that  and  was  waiting  to  give  it  up 
to  you.     You  can  take  your  place." 

As  she  said  this,  the  Duchess  rose.  She  had  that 
expression   on   her  face   which   made  her  sometimes 


432  AMERICAN  NOBILITY 

appear,  as  people  said,  "  crushing."  She  moved  away 
at  once  and,  advancing  towards  the  Keradieus,  began 
to  speak  to  them  of  the  wounded  man  in  the  most 
natural  way,  without  appearing  to  notice  their  looks 
of  consternation.  The  Prince  de  Nolles  had  not  wit- 
nessed the  scene  between  the  two  women  and  he  tried 
to  persuade  the  Duchess  to  stay  to  luncheon.  She 
declined  and  asked  the  Viscount  de  Nozay  to  drive  her 
back  to  Paris. 

When  they  were  on  the  way,  Guy  told  Christiane 
that,  according  to  the  promise  he  had  made  Jacques 
before  the  duel,  he  had  sent  her  a  wire,  and  that  he 
was  then  going  to  take  her  news  of  the  wounded  man. 

"  Your  presence  there  quite  upset  me,"  he  said. 
"  How  imprudent  it  was !  " 

It  was  the  first  time  that  he  had  made  a  direct 
allusion  to  her  liaison  with  the  Marquis,  showing 
that  he  knew  the  reason  of  her  rupture  with  Annie. 
Christiane  coloured  slightly. 

"  Imprudence?  "  she  repeated,  for  the  sake  of  saying 
something. 

"  Yes,  for  you  ran  the  risk  of  receiving  an  affront." 

The  Duchess  laid  her  hand  on  that  of  the  young  man. 

"  You  need  never  fear  that,  my  friend,"  she  said. 
"  You  know  very  well  that  no  one  would  offer  me  an 
affront." 

"  Your  being  present  at  the  place  where  the  duel 
was  to  take  place  will  compromise  you  horribly.  It 
was  very  foolish ! "  said  Guy,  crossly. 

Like  most  men,  he  did  not  like  a  woman  to  trifle 
with  her  reputation.  The  Duchess  shrugged  her 
shoulders. 

"  If  you  only  knew  how  little  I  care  whether  I 
compromise  myself  or  not !  " 


AMERICAN  NOBILITY  433 

"You  have  come  to  that?"  said  the  young  man  in 
a  distressed  tone. 

"  To  that  and  much  more.  How  much  more,  you 
could  never  imagine." 

"  Well,  but  how  was  it  you  were  at  St.  Germain?  " 

"  Yesterday,  about  midnight,  I  was  at  Madame 
d'Alby's  and  I  heard  what  had  taken  place  at  the 
Hotel  Continental.  I  managed  to  see  Jacques  for  an 
instant  and  to  make  him  give  me  the  details.  All 
night  long,  my  brain  was  working  to  such  a  degree 
that  I  nearly  lost  my  senses.  I  felt  that  I  could  never 
stay  quietly  at  home  and  await  the  result  of  the  duel, 
so  I  started  to  St.  Germain.  At  eight  o'clock,  I  was 
at  Monsieur  de  Nolles'.  You  can  imagine  his  amaze- 
ment. He  tried  his  utmost  to  persuade  me  to  go  away 
again,  but  I  would  not  and  he  let  me  stay  in  his  study. 
I  could  hear  all  the  coming  and  going  beforehand,  and 
it  was  horrible ! "  The  Duchess  shuddered  and  was 
silent  a  moment. 

"  Some  time  after,  I  cannot  tell  you  how  long,  I 
found  myself  out  in  the  hall,  just  as  they  were  carry- 
ing Jacques  in.  When  they  had  laid  him  on  the 
divan,  he  stirred  and  his  lips  moved.  I  bent  down 
to  hear  what  he  was  trying  to  say  and  distinctly,  oh, 
so  distinctly,  I  heard  him  pronounce  Annie's  name — it 
was  his  wife  he  wanted " 

The  Duchess  said  this  with  such  an  expression  of 
grief  that  Guy's  heart  melted  with  pity. 

"  I  was  going  away  then,"  she  continued,"  but  I  saw 
that  the  surgeon  was  opening  his  case  of  instruments. 
I  could  not  go  and  leave  him  without  a  woman  to 
tend  him.  I  stayed  and  arranged  his  pillows,  wrung 
out  the  blood-stained  sponges,  prepared  the  dressings, 
just  as  a  Sister  of  Charity  would  have  done.  It  was 
38 


434  AMERICAN  NOBILITY 

a  new  sensation  for  me  and  a  delicious  one.  When  I 
heard  him  breathe  more  freely,  I  was  satisfied.  Ah, 
to-day  I  penetrated  to  the  very  depths  of  a  woman's 
heart  and  I  have  learnt  to  understand  our  true  nature. 
We  are  nothing  but  mothers,  after  all,  mothers  of  men, 
whether  they  be  babies  or  grown  up.  The  idea  then 
came  to  me  that,  for  the  sake  of  Jacques'  happiness, 
I  must  give  him  up.  I  made  my  sacrifice  and  I  then 
waited  for  Annie,  so  that  I  might  restore  her  husband 
to  her.    Do  you  understand?" 

Guy  nodded,  without  trusting  himself  to  speak. 

"  You  have  pitied  and  blamed  me,  I  know,"  con- 
tinued Christiane.  "  Well,  you  can  go  on  pitying  me, 
but  do  not  blame  me  any  more,  for  I  have  been  pun- 
ished as  severely  as  morality  could  require.  And 
now,  it  is  all  over.  I  have  abdicated.  You  saw  me 
abdicate " 

"  Like  a  queen,"  said  the  Viscount  de  Nozay,  rub- 
bing his  eye-glasses  energetically,  instead  of  wiping 
his  eyes,  which  were  filled  with  tears. 


CHAPTER  XXIX 

Christiane  did  not  return  to  Blanzac.  She  sent  for 
her  servants  and  took  up  her  abode  in  her  town  house. 

The  Marquis  d'Anguilhon's  condition  caused  some 
anxiety.  He  could  not  be  moved  to  Paris  for  a  week. 
Guy  de  Nozay  went  to  see  the  Duchess  every  day  and 
gave  her  the  latest  news  of  the  invalid.  When  he  told 
her  that  the  doctors  had  pronounced  him  out  of  danger, 
she  said  quietly: 

"  I  am  very  glad.     That  was  all  I  wanted." 

Madame  de  Blanzac  had  made  a  greater  sacrifice 
than  Guy  imagined.  She  felt  that,  as  it  was  impos- 
sible for  Jacques  and  herself  to  be  united,  it  was  im- 
possible for  them  both  to  live  separated.  From  what 
Henri  de  Keradieu  and  the  surgeon  had  told  her,  it 
was  evident  that  Jacques  had  sought  death.  He 
must  have  felt  that  death  was  the  only  way  out 
of  the  present  difficulty.  She  had  come  to  the  con- 
clusion that,  if  this  were  so,  it  was  she  who  ought  to 
die,  and  she  decided  that  she  would  die.  For  many 
months,  she  had  tried  to  accustom  herself  to  the  idea 
of  death,  but  when  she  actually  came  to  the  edge  of 
the  abyss,  her  whole  being,  so  full  of  strength  and  life, 
recoiled  instinctively.  The  sweat  of  dread  and  of 
agony  came  to  her  brow,  just  as  it  had  done  to  the 
brow  of  Jesus.  Those  who  maintain  that  it  needs 
more  courage  to  live  an  unhappy  life  than  to  die  have 
not  tried  the  dying. 

435 


436  AMERICAN  NOBILITY 

Christiane's  weakness  was  not  of  long  duration. 
What  was  there  for  her  to  regret?  Her  share  of 
happiness  was  exhausted.  There  would  be  no  more 
light,  warmth,  or  love  in  her  life.  There  was  nothing 
left  for  her  but  commonplace  affections  and  the  satis- 
faction of  vanity.  Altruism  might,  perhaps,  be  a  joy 
and  consolation,  but  she  was  not  perfect  enough  to 
content  herself  with  this.  Jacques  and  Annie  would 
be  living  quite  close  to  her,  in  the  very  next  house, 
and  she  would  be  meeting  them  everywhere  and  would 
have  to  move  in  the  same  circle.  That,  above  every- 
thing else,  seemed  absolutely  impossible.  The  neces- 
sity of  disappearing  from  their  path  seemed  to  the 
Duchess  urgent,  and  she  began  to  think  out  some  way 
of  dying  in  a  dignified  manner,  without  causing  any 
scandal  or  giving  rise  to  any  suspicions.  She  did  not 
want  her  uncle  and  her  friends  to  have  any  unpleasant 
memories  when  thinking  of  her,  and  she  did  not  want 
her  death  to  be  spoken  of  in  a  hushed  voice,  as  people 
speak  of  deaths  by  suicide.  She  would  not  like  her 
friends  to  hurry  by  the  spot  where  she  had  breathed 
her  last. 

Christiane  had  always  had  deep  religious  feelings, 
but  as  she  grew  older  there  were  many  things  that 
she  no  longer  believed,  and  she  had  certain  convictions 
of  her  own.  She  did  not  believe  in  voluntary  death. 
She  thought  that  the  hour  for  the  departure  and  for 
the  arrival  was  irrevocably  fixed,  so  that  it  was  not 
in  any  one's  power  to  advance  or  delay  the  fatal 
moment.  If  she  were  destined  to  die  by  her  own  hand, 
it  was  God  who  willed  it  so,  and  the  order  from  on 
high  would  come  to  her  under  the  form  of  an 
inspiration. 

When  once  she  had  made  her  resolution,  a  great 


AMERICAN  NOBILITY  43T 

calmness  had  come  to  Madame  de  Blanzac^s  soul.  She 
felt  now  that  she  would  have  the  courage  to  die,  and 
the  consciousness  of  this  gave  her  a  sort  of  pride  and 
raised  her  in  her  own  esteem. 

Dr.  Moreau  was  glad  to  see  her  serene  expression 
and  the  elasticity  of  her  step,  which  he  considered  an 
infallible  sign  of  physical  and  moral  health.  She  had 
told  him  about  the  scene  at  St.  Germain  and  he  had 
congratulated  her  warmly  on  her  action.  It  was  a 
kind  of  revenge  that  she  had  taken,  and  he  attributed 
it  to  the  fortunate  change  in  her  ideas.  Whilst  he  was 
rejoicing  at  all  this,  Christiane  was  thinking  about 
her  death  and  quietly  arranging  her  affairs.  Under 
the  influence  of  her  resolution,  she  wrote  long,  minute 
instructions  to  the  future  master  of  Blanzac.  She  was 
very  glad  to  know  that  Louis  de  Challans  was  worthy 
of  the  position  for  which  his  uncle  had  destined 
him.  She  knew  the  girl  he  loved  and  approved  his 
choice.  She  was  glad  to  think  that  he  would  be  able 
to  marry  her. 

The  Duchess  then  made  her  will.  This  took  her 
several  days,  and  she  realised,  for  the  first  time,  how 
difficult  it  is  to  be  perfectly  just.  She  remembered 
every  one — relatives,  friends,  and  servants. 

"  How  many  people  will  be  made  happy  by  my 
death ! "  she  said  to  herself,  sadly.  She  appointed 
Monsieur  de  Keradieu  her  executor  and  left  him  every- 
thing at  La  Rosette,  in  memory  of  her.  Christiane 
then  divided  her  private  fortune  into  three  parts. 
The  usufruct  of  one  part  she  assigned  to  her  uncle; 
that  of  the  second  part  to  Dr.  Moreau  for  starting 
the  various  schemes  they  had  planned  together.  She 
requested  him  to  continue  them  with  the  collaboration 
of  the  future  Duke  de  Blanzac.    The  third  part  of  her 


438  AMERICAN  NOBILITY 

money  was  to  be  used  in  carrying  out  the  schemcH 
and  for  legacies  and  pensions.  At  the  death  of  her 
uncle  and  of  Dr.  Moreau,  her  money  would  go  to 
Louis  de  Challans.  In  return  for  this  money,  he  was 
to  continue  the  charitable  works  that  had  been  founded 
and  to  bequeath  them  to  his  children  at  his  death. 

La  Rosette  was  to  be  pulled  down  and,  on  its 
site,  an  educational  home  was  to  be  built  for  twenty 
little  girls  deserted  by  their  parents.  They  were  to 
be  taken  into  the  home  at  a  very  early  age  and  kept 
until  they  were  eighteen.  On  leaving,  they  were  each 
to  be  provided  with  a  dowry  of  five  hundred  francs, 
a  trousseau,  and  furniture  for  a  little  home.  All  the 
plans  and  the  regulations  for  this  Home  were  ready, 
and  Christiane  wished  to  have  her  portrait,  painted 
by  Chartran,  placed  in  the  parlour. 

She  then  thought  of  herself.  She  would  not  be 
embalmed,  and  she  wished  Toni  to  place  her  in  her 
shroud.  The  burial-place  of  the  Blanzacs  was  on  the 
site  of  the  old  castle.  It  was  on  raised  ground  and 
had  a  wonderfully  fine  aspect.  Christiane  did  not 
wish  to  be  buried  in  the  vault,  but  to  the  right  of 
the  chapel.  She  did  not  wish  to  have  either  marble 
or  stone  above  her,  nothing  heavy,  and  nothing  cold. 
She  wanted  to  have  two  coffins,  one  of  light  wood,  or 
of  wickerwork,  if  possible,  lined  with  moss.  This 
coffin  was  to  be  put  in  the  grave,  which  was  to  be 
very  wide  and  deep  and  built  up  on  the  three  sides. 
Earth  was  then  to  be  put  over  her,  so  that  it  might 
be  "  dust  with  dust."  She  wished  to  have  the  most 
beautiful  rose-bushes  from  her  garden  transplanted 
into  this  soil,  but  the  roses  were  all  to  be  red. 
Around  her  grave  were  to  be  railings,  and  a  large 
cross  of  wrought  iron  was  to  be  put  up  as  a  symbol. 


AMERICAN  NOBILITY  439 

This  was  to  be  all.  There  would  then  be  nothing  to 
hinder  the  work  of  the  resurrection  of  the  body.  She 
would  still  have  the  sun  and  the  air  which  living 
people  have,  and  she  herself  would  become  sap  and 
perfume.  No,  there  was  nothing  terrifying  or  repul- 
sive in  all  this.  She  smiled  with  pleasure  as  she 
thought  of  the  beautiful  effect  of  the  mass  of  vivid 
flowers  near  the  old  chapel. 

There  was  a  kind  of  voluptuousness  in  these  thoughts 
of  death  and  of  the  beyond,  and  Christiane  revelled 
in  them  more  and  more.  Like  her  Addolorata,  she 
was  holding  a  smiling  mask  in  front  of  her  real 
face.  She  attended  to  all  her  social  duties,  paid  calls, 
and  received  callers.  She  was  rather  absent-minded, 
sometimes,  and  what  people  said  often  seemed  absurd 
and  stupid.  She  said  to  herself  that  she  could  never 
again  be  interested  in  empty  talk  and  she  already 
felt  a  long  way  off  all  these  people  and  things. 

The  Duchess  loved  music  passionately  and  could 
not  possibly  do  without  it.  Since  her  return  to  Paris, 
she  had  not  yet  been  once  to  the  Opera.  When  the 
evening  for  which  she  subscribed  next  came  round,  she 
decided  that  she  would  take  the  Keradieus  and  Guy 
de  Nozay.  She  expected  to  hear  Die  Walkure,  but 
there  had  been  a  change  in  the  programme  at  the  last 
moment  and,  on  arriving,  she  saw  that  Hamlet  was 
posted  up.  This  name  had  the  most  extraordinary 
effect  on  her.  It  seemed  as  though  each  of  the  big, 
black  letters  stamped  itself  on  her  brain.  She  smiled 
as  she  said  to  herself  that  not  a  single  person  in  that 
house  could  be  better  prepared  than  she  was  for  hear- 
ing the  famous  work  by  Ambroise  Thomas.  Alas,  she 
was  only  too  well  prepared  for  it.  In  the  morbid 
state  in  which  she  was,  the  music  could  not  fail  to 


440  AMERICAN  NOBILITY 

act  fatally  on  her  mind  and  on  her  nerves.  All  those 
fine  phrases,  in  which  love  and  death  can  be  felt,  found 
an  echo  within  her.  Her  face  turned  pale  and  a 
strange  look  came  into  her  eyes.  She  leaned  back, 
so  that  she  should  not  be  noticed.  The  words  of 
Ophelia's  song  brought  tears  into  her  eyes  and  she 
repeated  them  to  herself. 

The  Viscount  de  Nozay  saw  her  emotion  and  re- 
frained from  looking  at  her.  He  cursed  Hamlet  and 
Ophelia,  and  Ambroise  Thomas  into  the  bargain,  and 
was  greatly  relieved  when  the  Op6ra  was  over.  It  was 
about  the  middle  of  April,  but  there  was  a  very  bleak 
wind  blowing  that  evening.  Every  time  the  doors 
opened  and  shut,  this  wind  could  be  felt,  and  the 
Duchess  shivered,  in  spite  of  her  furs. 

"  Fasten  your  cloak,"  said  Guy.  "  This  wind  is 
enough  to  give  you  pneumonia." 

"  Pneumonia  ?  "  repeated  Madame  de  Blanzac. 

"  Yes,  it  is  enough  to  kill  any  one  after  the  heat 
inside." 

When  he  had  put  her  into  her  carriage,  she  held 
out  her  hand  to  him. 

"  Thank  you,  Monsieur  de  Nozay,  thank  you,"  she 
said,  with  a  strange  smile. 

He  was  rather  struck  by  the  way  she  emphasised  the 
words  and  he  wondered  what  she  had  to  thank  him 
so  gratefully  for.  Poor  Guy,  if  he  had  only  known 
that  she  was  thanking  him  for  suggesting  to  her  the 
way  she  might  die. 

The  carriage  turned  down  the  Rue  de  la  Paix. 
Christiane  then  let  down  the  windows,  threw  open  her 
cloak,  and  leaned  back.  The  wind  blew  into  the  car- 
riage and  played  round  her  roughly.  She  could  feel 
it  on  her  beautiful  shoulders,  and  on  her  bosom,  throb- 


AMERICAN  NOBILITY  441 

bing  with  life.  It  seemed  to  freeze  her  moist  skin, 
her  flesh,  and  her  very  blood.  She  remained  im- 
passible, enduring  the  biting  cold,  and  then  her  lips 
quivered  and  the  tears  came  into  her  eyes. 

"  No,  there  is  no  such  thing  as  voluntary  death," 
she  said  to  herself.  "  I  have  been  called  and — oh,  it 
is  hard  to  die." 

Just  before  reaching  home,  she  put  up  the  windows 
again  and  fastened  her  cloak.  She  could  be  quite 
tranquil,  the  work  was  done,  and  she  was  stricken 
with  death. 

The  next  morning,  Christiane  awoke  with  a  cold  in 
her  head  and  on  her  chest.  Her  bronchial  tubes  were 
already  so  inflamed  that,  when  taking  her  shower- 
bath,  it  seemed  to  her  that  they  must  be  bare  wounds. 
She  dressed  and  went  out.  The  wind  was  as  cutting 
as  it  had  been  the  night  before.  She  walked  along 
aimlessly,  went  into  the  Bon  March^  and  bought  a 
few  things  she  did  not  want,  and  then  returned  home. 
By  this  time  she  ached  all  over  and  could  scarcely 
walk.  She  made  herself  keep  up,  nevertheless,  all  day 
long.  When  night  came,  she  was  glad  to  go  to  bed, 
knowing  full  well  that  she  would  never  get  up  again. 

Three  days  later,  it  was  rumoured,  in  social  circles, 
that  the  Duchess  de  Blanzac  was  suffering  from  con- 
gestion of  the  lungs  and  that  her  life  was  in  danger. 
Great  consternation  reigned  in  her  household  and  the 
silence  that  pervaded  it  was  of  bad  omen.  The 
domestics  went  to  and  fro  as  though  there  were  no 
longer  any  discipline  to  observe.  Friends  came  in  and 
out  without  waiting  to  be  shown  into  a  room  or 
accompanied  to  the  door. 

Dr.  Moreau  fought  the  disease,  inch  by  inch,  gaining 
an  advantage  for  a  few  hours,  but  losing  it  again  later 


442  AMERICAN  NOBILITY 

on.  Christiane  was  delirious  at  times  and  she  would 
then  cry  out  for  the  ice  to  be  taken  from  her  shoulders. 
Dr.  Moreau  was  surprised  at  this  strange  impression. 
Guy  de  Nozay  told  him  that  the  Duchess  must  have 
taken  a  chill  on  leaving  the  Op6ra.  He  had  seen  her 
shiver  and  had  asked  her  to  fasten  her  cloak. 

"  You  recommended  her  to  fasten  her  cloak  ?  "  asked 
the  doctor,  abruptly. 

"  Yes,  I  remember  quite  well  begging  her  to  do  so." 

The  doctor  made  no  further  remark.  He  guessed 
what  had  taken  place,  though,  and  he  understood  why 
she  had  this  persistent  sensation  of  icy  coldness. 

"  Poor  woman ! "  he  murmured  to  himself,  and  from 
that  moment  he  despaired  of  curing  her  and  he  no 
longer  even  wished  that  she  should  get  well. 

Between  the  fits  of  delirium,  Christiane  had  bad 
attacks  of  choking.  Morphine  was  given  to  her  and 
this  not  only  relieved  her  suffering,  but  gave  her,  for 
the  time  being,  remarkable  lucidity  and  strength.  She 
took  advantage  of  these  moments  for  seeing  her  friends, 
who  took  it  in  turns  to  be  there,  day  and  night.  They 
sat  in  the  room  adjoining  hers.  She  frequently  asked 
for  Louis  de  Challans,  as  she  had  so  many  instructions 
to  give  him  about  her  various  charitable  schemes,  her 
animals,  and  her  grave.  She  spoke  to  him  of  his  duties 
and,  several  times  over,  expressed  her  wish  for  him 
to  marry  Mademoiselle  de  Chinon.  He  listened  to  her 
words,  kneeling  by  her,  and  on  his  face  was  an  ex- 
pression of  very  real  grief.  On  one  occasion,  she  saw 
that  he  was  weeping.  She  held  her  hand  to  his  lips 
and  said,  with  a  smile: 

"  Those  are  beautiful  tears,  they  are  so  sincere. 
Thank  you  for  them." 

On  the  seventh  day,  Christiane  confessed  and  took 


AMERICAN  NOBILITY  443 

the  sacrament.  Towards  noon,  Dr.  Moreau  sounded 
her  lungs  again.  His  face  turned  very  pale,  for  he 
knew  the  end  was  not  far  off.  His  patient  knew  it, 
too.  She  asked  for  Guy  de  Nozay,  who  was  there 
now  night  and  day.  She  took  a  pencil  and,  asking  for 
a  sheet  of  paper,  wrote  a  few  lines  with  great  difficulty. 
"  Take  this  to  Madame  d'Anguilhon,"  she  said  to 
Guy,  "  and  bring  her  here  to  me." 


CHAPTER  XXX 

The  sight  of  the  Duchess  at  her  husband's  bedside 
had  frozen  up  all  the  love  and  pity  in  Annie's  heart. 
Jacques  had  evidently  not  broken  oflf  his  relations  with 
this  woman,  even  after  the  disgraceful  scene  in  which 
she  had  denounced  him.  He  had  no  self-respect  at 
all  then.  It  had  not  been  for  the  sake  of  sparing  his 
wife  anxiety  that  he  had  concealed  from  her  the  time 
of  the  duel.  He  had  merely  preferred  to  have  his 
mistress  with  him.  Madame  de  Blanzac  was  PYench 
and  would  comprehend  his  patriotism  and  his  heroism 
better  than  his  wife  could.  An  American  woman 
would  not  be  able  to  understand  all  these  grand  senti- 
ments. Perhaps  not,  thought  Annie,  but  at  any  rate 
she  knew  what  honour  and  straightforwardness  were. 
She  was  indignant  with  herself  for  having  asked  for  her 
place  at  her  husband's  bedside.  She  felt  that  she  ought 
to  have  gone  away  again.  The  Duchess  had  seemed 
to  be  restoring  her  husband  to  her.  The  idea  of  this 
was  the  climax,  and  she  decided  that  she  would  simply 
leave  him  to  his  mistress  and  return  to  America.  She 
had  friends  there  who  appreciated  her  and  she  ought 
never  to  have  left  them.  She  would  just  tell  them 
that  she  had  been  mistaken,  or  rather  that  she  had 
been  deceived.  She  would  take  her  child  back  with 
her,  as  she  would  have  the  right  to  keep  him  until 
he  was  seven  years  old.     It  was  some  satisfaction,  at 

444 


AMERICAN  NOBILITY  445 

any  rate,  to  know  that  she  had  not  married  the  Mar- 
quis d'Anguilhon  out  of  ambition.  It  had  been  a  love- 
match  on  her  side,  at  any  rate.  How  well  it  had 
turned  out,  her  love-match !  Well,  the  lesson  she  had 
learned  might  be  useful  to  some  of  her  countrywomen. 

These  thoughts  filled  Annie's  heart  with  anger  and 
bitterness  and  made  her  childlike  face  look  remark- 
ably hard.  For  the  next  eight  days  Jacques'  life  was 
in  danger,  and  yet  she  felt  no  pity  for  him.  She 
tended  him,  nevertheless,  with  an  alertness  and  skill 
that  won  the  doctor's  admiration,  but  there  was  no 
gentleness  in  the  touch  of  her  hands,  and  no  tenderness 
in  her  eyes. 

Madame  d'Anguilhon  had  received  a  telegram,  sum- 
moning her  to  her  son's  bedside.  She  was  surprised 
to  find  that  the  duel  had  not  brought  the  husband  and 
wife  any  nearer  together. 

"  That  is  not  the  way  to  win  a  husband  back,"  she 
said  to  herself  sadly,  as  she  watched  her  daughter- 
in-law. 

The  idea  of  winning  her  husband  back  would  cer- 
tainly never  have  entered  Annie's  head.  She  might 
have  forgiven  Jacques,  and  she  had  come  very  near 
this,  but  to  do  anything  with  the  idea  of  winning  his 
love  again  would  have  seemed  to  her  like  the  very 
depth  of  degradation.  That  certainly  would  have  been 
beyond  her  altogether. 

The  Marquis  could  not  be  moved  for  a  week.  The 
state  of  mental  excitement  he  had  been  in  at  the  time 
he  was  wounded  made  his  recovery  more  slow  and 
difficult.  He  soon  noticed  the  extreme  coldness  with 
which  Annie  treated  him.  At  times,  she  seemed  to 
him  like  a  stranger  and  he  did  not  like  having  her 
there  nursing  him.     He  had  a  vague  memory  of  having 


446  AMERICAN  NOBILITY 

seen  Christiane  near  him.  He  thought,  at  first,  that 
he  must  have  been  dreaming,  but  finally,  he  felt 
convinced  that  she  had  come  to  St.  Germain  and  that 
his  wife  had  met  her  there. 

When  Annie  heard  of  Madame  de  Blanzac's  illness, 
she  neither  felt  a  cruel  joy,  nor  yet  a  guilty  hope. 
Whether  her  rival  lived  or  died  mattered  little  to  her. 
Jacques  was  unworthy  of  her  own  love  and  of  her 
forgiveness.  He  no  longer  existed  for  her,  and  nothing 
could  alter  that  fact. 

She  was  in  this  frame  of  mind  when  Guy  called 
on  her.  On  seeing  his  grief -stricken  face  and  his  grave 
look,  she  had  a  presentiment  that  he  had  come  from 
the  Duchess,  and  she  steeled  herself  to  hear  what  he 
had  to  say. 

"  What  is  the  matter?  "  she  asked,  coldly. 

"  Madame  de  Blanzac  has  given  me  this  note  for 
you.     You  know  she  is  dying." 

Annie  took  the  note  with  visible  repugnance  and 
read  it  with  compressed  lips.  It  contained  nothing 
but  the  following  words,  written  with  a  trembling  hand, 
which  made  the  writing  almost  illegible  and  infinitely 
pathetic : 

"  I  am  about  to  set  out  on  the  long  journey.  Come 
and  bid  me  farewell. 

Christiane." 

The  young  Marchioness  could  not  help  feeling  a  cer- 
tain emotion,  which  she  herself  qualified  as  "  horrible." 
She  endeavoured  to  appear  indifferent,  nevertheless. 

"  Is  she  really  so  ill  then  ?  " 

"  She  will  probably  not  live  through  the  night." 

"  Ah,  well — will  you  tell  her " 


AMERICAN  NOBILITY  447 

"  Nothing,"  interrupted  the  Viscount.  "  She  wants 
to  see  you  and  I  am  going  to  take  you  to  her." 

Annie  made  no  reply.  She  was  absolutely  domi- 
nated by  Monsieur  de  Nozay's  will-power.  She  went 
to  tell  her  mother-in-law  and  to  put  on  her  hat.  Poor 
Annie  I  She  was  too  simple-minded  for  all  the  extraor- 
dinary things  that  were  happening  to  her.  The  idea 
of  an  affecting  scene  alarmed  her  and  was  even  repug- 
nant to  her.  Christiane  was  probably  going  to  ask 
her  forgiveness  and  it  would  be  terrible. 

"  Oh,  these  French  people,"  she  said  to  herself, 
almost  angrily,  "  they  must  always  have  something 
romantic  or  theatrical !  " 

She  slackened  her  steps,  like  a  child,  in  order  to 
delay  the  interview.  In  spite  of  herself,  her  heart 
sank  when  she  entered  the  silent,  desolate  house  which 
always  used  to  be  so  gay  and  so  full  of  life.  The  void 
one  creates  in  the  world  is,  of  course,  in  proportion 
to  the  place  one  fills.  There  are  people  whose  voices 
have  no  echo  and  whose  footsteps  leave  no  trace. 

Christiane  wielded  her  influence  far  and  near.  In 
her  own  home,  her  individuality  could  be  felt  every- 
where, in  the  arrangement  of  things,  in  the  very  per- 
fume that  was  in  the  air.  Her  presence  could  always 
be  felt  from  the  drawing-room  to  the  hall-door.  Now 
that  she  was  no  longer  there,  there  was  an  immense 
void. 

Monsieur  de  Nozay  went  into  Christiane's  room  first. 
A  few  minutes  later,  he  took  Annie  in,  and  came  out 
himself.  In  the  spacious  bedroom,  there  were  plants, 
oxygenated  air,  plenty  of  light,  and  nothing  to  remind 
one  of  illness.  And  yet,  an  indefinable  something  re- 
vealed the  presence  of  the  dread  visitor.  The  Duchess 
was  lying  in  her  huge  bed,  the  lace  of  the  pillow-slips 


448  AMERICAN  NOBILITY 

forming  a  halo  round  her  head.  The  satin  counter- 
pane was  beautifully  embroidered  and  just  near  her 
lay  a  bunch  of  primroses,  a  branch  of  hawthorn  and 
other  spring  flowers,  which  she  had  wanted  to  see  for 
tlie  last  time. 

Dr.  Moreau,  who  could  no  longer  refuse  her  anything, 
had,  at  her  request,  galvanised  her  by  means  of  a 
strong  injection  of  morphine. 

The  two  women  looked  at  each  other  for  a  few 
seconds  without  speaking.  The  Duchess,  still  capable 
of  commanding  a  situation,  said,  in  a  voice  that  had 
lost  its  ring: 

"  You  see,  Annie,  I  am  just  about  to  leave  this  world. 
.  .  .  My  call  has  come  and  I  did  not  want  to  go  without 
telling  you  that  I  am  very  sorry  to  have  caused  you 
grief.  I  can  do  still  more  than  that.  I  can  give  you 
back  a  little  of  your  happiness  .  .  ." 

Here  there  was  a  pause.  The  Duchess's  breath  was 
getting  shorter. 

"  In  my  fit  of  madness,  I  slandered  Jacques.  It  was 
not  just  for  your  money  that  he  married  you,  for  he 
loved  you.  All  that  he  said  to  you  was  true — all — 
do  you  understand?  How  and  why  we  were  thrown 
into  each  other's  arms,  I  do  not  know —  I  shall  know 
soon,  perhaps —  I  went  to  St.  Germain  without  his 
knowledge —  And  let  me  tell  you  that  when  he  came 
to  himself  again — it  was  your  name  that  he  uttered — 
not  mine.  It  was  you  that  he  called — because  you  are 
his  wife — the  other  half  of  himself —  It  is  the  wife 
always  who  has  the  better  part.  Believe  me,  in  this 
world,  where  everything  passes  away,  where  every- 
thing is  fleeting,  the  only  true  thing  is  conjugal  love, 
the  family —  All  the  rest  is  flame  and  smoke  and  more 
especially  smoke " 


AMERICAN  NOBILITY  440 

The  broken,  indistinct  words  were  infinitely  sweet 
to  the  young  wife.  Her  heart  dilated  with  joy  and 
with  pity.  After  a  moment's  silence,  Madame  de 
Blanzac  continued : 

"  You  can  forgive  now.  You  must  promise  me  to 
make  peace  with  your  husband.  I  need  this  promise, 
if  I  am  to  die  tranquilly." 

Annie  could  bear  no  more.  The  tears  welled  up  into 
her  eyes  and  rolled  down  her  cheeks. 

"  Oh,  get  well,  get  well ! "  she  implored,  with  a 
sincere  ring  in  her  voice. 

"  God  forbid.  I  have  already  gone  a  long  way  and 
I  would  not  turn  back  agajn  now-^  The  most  difficult 
part  is  over —    You  promise  me " 

Annie  nodded;  not  daring  to  trust  her  voice. 

"  Thank  you.  I  shall  send  a  few  lines  to  Jacques. 
And  now,  everything  will  be  right.  I  want  you  to 
be  happy  together  and  to  have  a  beautiful  little 
family " 

These  words,  which  summed  up  all  the  pain  of  the 
sacrifice,  brought  a  fleeting  blush  to  the  dying  woman's 
cheeks. 

"  And  now  we  are  friends, — are  we  not — ?  "  she 
said,  trying  to  smile. 

The  hands  of  the  two  women  met  in  a  firm  clasp. 

"  I  am  quite  happy  now,"  said  ChHstiane,  closing 
her  eyes. 

Annie  dared  not  move.  She  gazed  admiringly  at  the 
beautiful  face,  crowned  by  its  heavy  masses  of  hair. 
The  boldly-marked  profile  was  more  lovely  than 
ever,  for  it  already  had  the  supreme  beauty  of  death. 
When  the  doctor  came  into  the  room,  she  stooped 
and  kissed  Christiane,  with  an  almost  religious 
feeling. 

39 


450  AMERICAN  NOBILITY 

"  Good-bye,"  she  said,  "  I  will  come  back  during  the 
evening." 

Madame  de  Blanzac  opened  her  eyes. 

"  Good-bye,"  she  answered.  "  Yes,  come  back  soon." 
She  spoke  very  quietly,  as  though  in  a  dream. 

On  returning  home,  Annie  simply  told  her  mother- 
in-law  that  she  and  the  Duchess  were  reconciled.  She 
advised  her  to  go  at  once  and  say  farewell.  Madame 
d'Anguilhon  was  only  too  glad  to  go,  for  nothing  had 
been  able  to  change  the  motherly  feeling  she  had  always 
had  for  Christiane. 

The  scene  that  Annie  had  so  much  dreaded  had 
lifted  her  to  a  height  that  she  had  never  yet  attained 
in  her  life.  The  joy  of  forgiveness,  which  she  had 
just  experienced,  made  her  feel  as  though  she  would 
like  to  go  back  to  the  Duchess  and  tend  her,  and  do 
all  she  could  for  her.  She  reproached  herself  for  hav- 
ing been  cold  and  stupid.  She  could  not  help  admiring 
this  woman  who  was  dying  so  bravely.  How  dignified 
she  had  been!  She  had  not  asked  forgiveness  and  she 
had  not  humiliated  herself.  She  had  simply  set  mat- 
ters straight  and  left  the  rest  to  Annie's  sense  of 
justice.  Yes,  it  was  very  fine  and  Christiane  was  a 
true  grande  dame.  It  was  not  at  all  surprising  that 
Jacques  should  have  loved  her.  If  she  had  been  a 
man,  Christiane"  was  just  the  woman  she  would  have 
loved.    What  a  poor,  little  girl  she  felt  beside  her! 

Directly  after  dinner,  Annie  told  her  mother-in-law 
that  she  was  going  back  to  Madame  de  Blanzac's  and 
that  she  might  possibly  stay  there  all  night.  She 
coloured  slightly  as  she  said  this.  She  took  a  bunch 
of  violets  with  her,  which  she  had  gathered  her- 
self. On  arriving  next  door,  she  went  quickly  past 
the  gatekeeper's  lodge  and,   not  seeing  any  one  in 


'AMERICAN  NOBILITY  451 

the  hall,  straight  npstairs.  On  reaching  the  small 
drawing-room,  she  stood  still  for  a  second,  not  daring 
to  move.  The  folding-doors,  leading  into  the  bedroom, 
were  thrown  wide  open  and,  at  the  far  end  of  that 
room,  she  saw  a  kind  of  altar,  with  a  crucifix.  A 
priest  was  there  in  his  surplice  and,  by  the  light  of 
the  wax  tapers,  Annie  saw  Christiane  lying  quite  still, 
her  hands  clasped,  and  the  paleness  of  death  on  her 
face.  At  the  foot  of  her  bed  was  the  Count  de  Creil, 
whose  grief  was  painful  to  witness.  Louis  de  Chal- 
lans  was  there,  and  also  the  Keradieus  and  Guy  de 
Nozay.  A  little  further  away  was  a  group  of  servants 
in  an  attitude  of  mingled  reverence  and  sorrow. 

Scarcely  daring  to  breathe,  Annie  glided  into  the 
room  and  knelt  down  quietly  by  the  Keradieus.  With 
intense  curiosity,  she  then  watched  the  ceremony  of 
extreme  unction.  To  her,  it  seemed  useless  and  even 
cruel.  She  did  not  know  that,  according  to  the 
Catholic  faith,  the  unctions  on  the  ears,  hands,  and 
feet  of  the  dying  woman  effaced  all  guilty  kisses — 
Jacques'  kisses — and  all  the  forbidden  delights  and 
caresses  which  had  offended  her. 

As  soon  as  the  ceremony  was  over,  she  went  nearer 
to  Christiane,  and  heard  her  murmur :  "  Symbols, 
only  symbols,  but  how  beautiful  and  how  consoling ! " 

On  seeing  Annie,  a  glad  look  came  over  her  face. 
She  took  the  bunch  of  violets  eagerly,  held  it  to  her 
lips,  and  then  clasped  the  flowers  tightly  in  her  hand, 
as  though  she  did  not  want  them  to  be  taken  from 
her  again. 

"  It  was  a  nice  thought  of  yours,"  she  said,  in  a 
far-off  voice. 

"  Do  you  suffer  much  ?  "  asked  Annie. 

"  No,  on  the  contrary.    I  feel  wonderfully  free  from 


452  AMERICAN  NOBILITY 

suffering.  Is  it  the  effect  of  the  morphine,  I  wonder, 
or  is  it  the  end  ?  " 

As  she  said  this,  she  closed  her  eyes  and  fell  into 
one  of  those  sudden  lethargies  which  sometimes  pre- 
cede the  long  sleep. 

Dr.  Moreau  told  Annie  that  the  Duchess  would 
probably  be  perfectly  conscious  until  the  very  end, 
and  he  added  that  the  end  could  not  be  far  off.  She 
decided  to  stay  there  all  night.  Guy  de  Nozay  was 
as  grateful  to  her  as  though  Christiane  had  been  a 
relative  of  his.  Monsieur  de  Keradieu  clasped  her 
hand  more  warmly  than  he  had  ever  done  before,  and 
looked  at  her  several  times  with  tears  in  his  eyes. 

The  painful,  solemn  night  passed  by  and,  at  dawn, 
Annie  went  back  home,  shuddering.  The  awe  of  death, 
the  death  she  had  just  witnessed,  was  still  in  her  eyes. 

Jacques  had  had  a  very  restless  night  and  the  Sister 
of  Charity,  who  was  nursing  him,  had  been  obliged  to 
rouse  Madame  d'Anguilhon.  She  had  not  gone  to  bed 
again  and  was  now  awaiting  her  daughter-in-law 
anxiously. 

As  soon  as  she  heard  her  enter  the  house,  she  went 
forward  to  meet  her. 

"  Well  ? "  she  asked,  in  a  tone  that  betrayed  her 
emotion. 

"  She  has  just  passed  away —  She  looked  so 
happy." 

"  She  is  happy,  my  child,  do  not  doubt  that." 

Annie's  heart  was  full  to  bursting.  She  threw  her 
arms  round  her  mother-in-law's  neck,  kissed  her,  and 
then  went  away  to  her  own  room  to  give  vent  to  her 
tears. 


CHAPTER  XXXI 

As  the  Marquis  d'Anguilhon  was  not  yet  able  to  get 
up,  it  had  been  possible  to  keep  from  him  the  news 
of  the  illness  and  death  of  the  Duchess  de  Blanzac. 
Nothing  had  transpired  and  not  a  word  had  been 
uttered  calculated  to  arouse  his  suspicions,  and  yet, 
by  a  psychical  phenomenon  of  more  frequent  occur- 
rence than  we  imagine,  he  had  been  afifected  by  what 
was  taking  place  in  the  next  house.  A  nameless 
anxiety  took  possession  of  him.  Christiane  haunted 
his  dreams.  He  saw  her  in  danger  continually,  and 
was  not  able  to  go  to  her  rescue.  He  would  wake  up 
with  his  face  damp  with  perspiration  and  his  limbs 
aching,  as  though  he  had  been  trampled  on.  The  im- 
pression of  this  nightmare  would  often  last  all  day. 
The  night  of  the  Duchess's  death,  he  had  been  assailed 
by  a  mysterious  fear  and  had  asked  to  have  all  the 
candles  in  the  room  lighted.  He  felt  intuitively  that 
something  was  being  concealed  from  him  and  he  tried 
to  read  the  faces  of  all  who  approached  him.  He 
fancied  that  the  Count  de  Chastel  had  died,  although 
he  was  assured  to  the  contrary.  He  noticed  the 
change  in  Annie  at  once.  After  three  weeks  of  inex- 
plicable and  almost  cruel  coldness,  she  had  come  to 
his  bedside  one  day,  with  her  old  affectionate  look  in 
her  eyes.  It  was  as  though  she  wanted  to  obtain  his 
forgiveness.     He  wondered  what  was  the  reason  of  this 

453 


454  AMERICAN  NOBILITY 

change.  All  this  made  him  feverish  and  delayed  his  re- 
covery. Finally,  he  was  able  to  leave  his  bed  and  to 
lie  on  the  sofa.  At  this  stage,  the  doctor  said  that 
he  could  bear  a  shock  without  any  danger. 

Guy  de  Nozay  wanted  to  give  Jacques  the  letter  that 
the  Duchess  had  left  for  him.  The  poor  fellow  was 
heart-broken  at  the  loss  of  the  woman  who  had  won 
the  deepest  affection  of  his  life.  One  morning,  on 
entering  his  friend's  room,  he  had  taken  no  pains  to 
disguise  his  true  feelings.  The  Marquis  saw  that 
something  was  wrong  and  did  not  give  him  time  to 
speak. 

"  Bad  news?  "  he  asked.    "  Is  Chastel  dead?  " 

"  No,  he  is  quite  out  of  danger,  fortunately.  That 
would  have  been  the  finishing  touch " 

"What  is  it  then?  What  is  happening?  There  is 
something,  I  know.  I  can  feel  it.  Is  it  Madame  de 
Blanzac?" 

As  he  uttered  this  name,  light  seemed  suddenly  to 
dawn  on  him  and  he  turned  deadly  pale. 

"  Christiane?  "  he  asked. 

"  Christiane,  yes,  you  have  guessed  rightly." 

"She  has  killed  herself?"  exclaimed  the  Marquis, 
letting  his  secret  dread  escape  his  lips. 

"  No,  no,  thank  God,  it  is  not  that.  She  took  a 
chill  on  leaving  the  Opera.  Congestion  of  the  lungs 
set  in — Dr.  Moreau  did  all  he  could  to  save  her — 
but  he  could  not — and  after  a  week's  illness — she 
succumbed  .  .  ." 

Guy  had  spoken  slowly  and  hesitated  between  his 
sentences,  so  that  the  terrible  news  should  not  be  too 
sudden  for  his  friend. 

"Dead? — she,  dead?"  exclaimed  Jacques,  his  eyes 
dilating   with    horror   and    his    body   trembling   con- 


AMERICAN  NOBILITY  455 

vulsively.  "  Dead,"  he.  began  again,  "  oh,  it  is  not 
possible ! " 

He  wiped  the  great  drops  of  perspiration  away  from 
his  forehead  as  he  spoke. 

"  Alas,  it  is  only  too  true." 

There  was  a  long  silence  between  the  two  men. 

"  You  knew  that  she  was  dying  and  you  did  not 
tell  me?  "  said  the  Marquis,  at  last. 

"  What  good  would  it  have  done,  my  poor  friend, 
as  you  could  not  go  to  her  ?  " 

"  I  should  have  gone.  I  would  have  found  the  neces- 
sary strength." 

Then  drawing  himself  up,  he  asked,  in  a  lower 
voice : 

"  You  have  something  for  me,  have  you  not?  " 

Guy  held  out  Cbristiane's  letter,  which  was  fastened 
with  a  large,  red  seal.  Jacques  took  it  with  trembling 
fingers  and  clasped  it  tightly  in  his  hand,  as  though 
he  wanted  to  feel  it  and  make  it  enter  into  his  very 
flesh. 

"  I  thought  she  would  not  have  gone  without  leaving 
a  line  for  me^ — that  would  have  been  too  cruel." 

Guy  rose  to  go  away,  but  Jacques  asked  him  to 
stay. 

"  Tell  me  everything  now,"  he  said.  "  Let  me  know 
all  that  happened  after  that  unfortunate  duel." 

Guy  saw  that  it  would  be  better  to  finish  with  the 
details  at  once.  He  told  him  how  the  Duchess  had 
taken  the  chill.  He  described  her  illness  and  her 
peaceful  end. 

"  Oh,  she  was  so  happy  to  die,"  he  said,  "  that  if  I 
had  had  the  power  to  bring  her  back  to  life,  I  should 
not  have  dared." 

Guy  then  spoke  of  the  numerous  tokens  of  affection 


456  AMERICAN  NOBILITY 

and  respect  that  she  had  received.  He  told  Jacques 
about  her  will  and  about  the  intense  grief  of  Louis 
de  Challans  and  of  the  Count  de  Creil.  All  these 
things,  painful  and  consoling  at  the  same  time,  moved 
Jacques  to  the  very  depth  of  his  soul.  His  face  flushed 
and  turned  pale  as  he  listened,  and  there  was  an 
expression  in  his  eyes  that  was  pitiful  to  see. 

"  I  must  tell  you  too,"  said  Guy,  "  that  your  wife 
behaved  admirably.  The  Duchess  asked  her  to  go  and 
see  her.  She  not  only  went,  but  she  spent  the  last 
night  with  her.  Her  presence  at  the  funeral,  and  her 
evident  grief,  served  to  contradict  the  suspicions  which 
her  quarrel  with  Madame  de  Blanzac  had  roused.  She 
did  all  this  in  the  most  natural  way  possible,  and 
with  a  simplicity  that  charmed  me.  She  may  not  be 
able  to  turn  fine  phrases,  but  she  certainly  knows  how 
to  act,  and  very  nobly,  too,  I  must  say.  If  only  on 
her  account,  you  ought  to  pull  yourself  together  and 
conquer  your  grief." 

"  I  will  do  my  best,"  said  the  Marquis.  "  What  a 
void  in  that  house  and  at  Blanzac ! "  he  added,  with 
a  shudder. 

"  It  is  terrible,"  agreed  Guy.  "  Ah,  what  a  place  she 
filled,  our  poor,  great  Christiane.  Do  you  know  that 
I  have  lost  more  than  you  have?" 

"  More  than  I  have?  " 

"  Yes,  it  is  possible  to  find  another  woman,  a  dozen 
more  women,  but  not  another  friend  such  as  she  was. 
I  feel  utterly  forsaken.  There  are  bad  moments  in 
life  and  both  you  and  I  are  having  one  of  those  bad 
moments  now.  Well,  I  must  go,"  said  Guy,  getting 
up  as  he  spoke.    "  Good-bye." 

The  two  men  grasped  hands  without  uttering  a 
word. 


AMERICAN  NOBILITY  457 

"  Give  orders  that  I  am  not  to  be  disturbed,  under 
any  pretext,  until  I  ring,"  said  the  Marquis,  just  as 
Guy  reached  the  door. 

"  You  are  not  going  to  do  anything  foolish,  I  hope?  " 
said  Guy,  turning  and  looking  at  his  friend. 

*'  No,  you  can  be  easy  on  that  score." 

When  once  he  was  alone,  the  Marquis  kissed  Chris- 
tiane's  letter,  opened  it  slowly,  and  began  to  read  it. 
The  letters  seemed  to  enter  his  brain  without  making 
any  sense,  but  finally  he  began  to  understand.  The 
tenderness  and  consolation  which  emanated  from  these 
few  lines  of  farewell  went  straight  to  his  very  soul 
and  soothed  it,  bringing  tears  to  his  eyes,  tears  which 
gave  him  relief. 

"  Jacques,"  wrote  the  Duchess,  "  God  has  called  me 
and  I  cannot  leave  this  world  without  saying  farewell 
to  you.  Things  are  all  ending  in  the  right  way  and 
I  am  glad  of  it.  I  have  always  believed  in  God's 
justice  and  now  I  believe  in  His  mercy.  It  will  be 
a  great  grief  to  you  to  find  me  gone.  I  know  this, 
for  I  feel  it.  Remember,  though,  that  I  am  at  rest. 
Time  will  then  do  its  work  and  *  the  dead  are  soon 
gone.'  Do  some  good  in  the  world,  in  memory  of  me. 
I  should  like  my  memory  to  be  of  some  use  in  the 
world.  As  far  as  it  is  in  my  power,  I  am  repairing 
the  harm  I  did  you.  I  am  sorry  to  have  disturbed 
Annie's  happiness.  I  cannot  regret  my  love  for  you 
and  I  have  no  remorse.  I  have  left  you  the  Addo- 
lorata.  It  was  most  certainly  I  myself.  Put  her  in 
the  darkest  corner  of  your  study,  so  that  no  one  shall 
see  the  real  face.  How  painful  it  was,  the  wearing 
of  that  mask! 

"  Instead  of  a  kiss,  I  send  you  a  blessing.     I  have 


458  AMERICAN  NOBILITY 

a  right  to  do  this  as  a  dying  woman.  May  God  give 
you  sons — sons  as  handsome  and  strong  as  you  could 
wish.  You  see,  Jacques,  that  I  am  at  last  above  all 
jealousy,  above  all  petty  feelings.  I  had  to  mount  very 
high,  in  order  to  get  above  all  this.  I  had  to  reach 
the  very  gate  of  death.  I  am  there  now  and  I  no 
longer  hear  all  the  noise  of  this  world.  I  shall  very 
soon  see  no  one  else  but  you,  as  yours  will  be  the 
last  face  left  in  my  mind. 

"  Adieu — I  dare  not  say  au  revoir, 

"  Christianb." 

The  Duchess  had  written  these  lines  on  the  second 
day  of  her  illness.  The  evening  before  her  death  she 
added  the  following  postscript: 

"  Annie  has  just  left  me.  All  is  right  between  us 
— perfect  peace.  The  worst  things  are  more  terrible 
from  afar  than  when  we  are  near  to  them." 

Jacques'  head  fell  back  on  his  cushions  and  he  re- 
mained a  long  time  motionless,  with  his  eyes  closed. 
This  then  was  the  cause  of  the  anguish  he  had  felt. 
She  was  dying  just  a  few  steps  away  from  him.  All 
the  impressions  he  had  had  during  their  last  interview 
came  back  to  his  mind.  Christiane  in  the  carriage 
by  him,  with  the  sweet  warmth  of  life  in  her  body. 
He  remembered  her  subtle  perfume  and  the  soft 
material  in  which  she  was  clad.  He  saw  the  half-open 
cloak,  the  sparkle  of  her  diamonds,  and  her  proud 
head  above  her  big  fur  collar.  How  her  eyes  had 
gleamed  in  the  dark  carriage  and  how  large  the  pupils 
had  looked!  And  now  he  should  never  see  her  again, 
never.    She  would  always  be  absent.    She  had  been 


AMERICAN  NOBILITY  459 

stolen  from  him  during  his  illness;  yes,  she  had 
been  literally  stolen  from  him.  Ah,  then  he  had  not 
been  dreaming.  She  had  actually  come  to  St.  Germain 
and  it  was  she  whom  he  had  seen  bending  over  him.  For 
a  long  time,  he  remained  plunged  in  his  painful  medi- 
tation. He  read  the  Duchess's  letter  once  again  and 
then,  getting  up  with  difficulty,  he  dragged  himself 
across  to  his  desk,  and  locked  it  up  in  one  of  the 
drawers. 

And  now,  he  must  see  Annie.  It  would  be  horribly 
painful,  but  he  must  see  her.  She  had  forgiven  Chris- 
tiane,  but  would  she  forgive  him?  He  was  grateful 
to  her  for  what  she  had  done.  What  a  good  creature 
she  really  was !  With  this  thought  in  his  mind,  Jacques 
rang  the  bell,  and  sent  to  ask  his  wife  if  she  would 
come  to  him. 

Annie  knew  the  reason  of  Guy's  visit  and  had  been 
waiting,  in  fear  and  trembling,  for  her  husband's  sum- 
mons. She  wanted  this  interview  and  yet  she  dreaded 
it.  She  felt  that  she  had  acted  very  well  and,  like 
a  child,  she  wanted  to  be  told  so.  On  the  other  hand, 
the  situation  would  be  embarrassing.  She  knew  that 
she  would  be  speechless  and  that  she  would  never  be 
able  to  find  the  words  for  saying  what  she  wanted 
to  say. 

She  was  very  nervous  and  very  much  excited  when 
she  entered  her  husband's  room.  On  seeing  his  deadly 
paleness  and  his  drawn  features,  she  had  a  pang  at 
her  heart. 

Jacques  pointed  to  a  seat  near  his  sofa  and  she  sat 
down. 

"  You  know  what  I  have  just  heard,"  he  said,  in  a 
changed  voice.  "  It  is  a  great  trouble  to  me.  I  can- 
not help  that.    After  the  way  you  have  behaved  in 


460  AMERICAN  NOBILITY 

this,  it  would  be  an  insult  to  you  for  me  to  dissemble. 
Do  not  be  offended  by  my  grief." 

"Offended?  Why,  no,  that  would  be  absurd.  You 
would  be  an  extraordinary  sort  of  man  if  the  death 
of  a  person,  for  whose  sake  you  had  forgotten  so  much, 
could  be  indifferent  to  you.  If  Madame  de  Blanzac 
had  lived,  I  should  have  found  a  way  to  give  you 
back  your  liberty.  I  should  have  gone  back  to 
America." 

Jacques  laid  his  hand  on  Annie's. 

"  And  how  can  you  tell  whether  I  should  have 
allowed  you  to  go  ? "  he  said,  with  emotion.  "  You 
are  the  Marchioness  d'Anguilhon,  the  other  half  of 
myself,  the  mother  of  my  son.  Those  are  ties  which 
could  not  be  lightly  broken.  I  should  never  have  been 
happy,  separated  from  you." 

An  expression  of  pleasure  lighted  up  Annie's  face. 

"  Jacques,"  she  began  and  then  stopped  abruptly, 
blushing  and  evidently  very  much  confused.  "  I  pro- 
mised Christiane  to  make  it  all  up  with  you,  to  forget 
the  past.     I  am  ready  to  do  this " 

"  Merely  because  you  promised  ?  " 

"Because  I  love  you,"  replied  the  young  Mar- 
chioness, simply. 

Jacques  was  more  touched  by  this  answer  than  he 
cared  to  show.  He  raised  the  hand  he  was  holding  to 
his  lips  and  kissed  it. 

"  Those  are  good  words  to  hear,  Annie,"  he  said. 

"  Madame  de  Blanzac  assured  me  that  I  had  the 
better  part.  She  must  have  known — and  I  am  begin- 
ning to  believe  she  was  right.  She  told  me,  too,  that 
she  had  slandered  you,  that  you  did  not  marry  me 
only  for  my  money,  and  that — you  really  loved  me.  She 
took  a  big  thorn  out  of  my  heart  when  she  said  that. 


AMERICAN  NOBILITY  461 

The  idea  that  you  had  been  lying  and  acting  a  part 
was  more  painful  to  me  than  all  the  rest." 

"  And  you  will  have  confidence  again  ?  " 

"  Yes.  You  see,  I  have  been  thinking  about  things 
a  great  deal  lately.  It  is  quite  true,  perhaps,  that 
you  could  not  help — what  happened.  A  great  passion 
must  be  a  kind  of  malady,  like  typhus  fever  and  small- 
pox. It  never  comes  a  second  time  in  one's  life,  I  hope. 
Does  it?" 

"  No,  thank  Heaven,  no." 

"  Well,  you  must  have  been  thoroughly  vaccinated 
then,  so  that  I  shall  be  quite  tranquil  in  my  mind." 

She  said  this  so  seriously  that  a  smile  came  to 
Jacques'  lips. 

"  You  may  be  quite  tranquil,  I  assure  you.  Then, 
too,  when  a  thing  of  this  kind  does  not  separate  a 
husband  and  wife  forever,  it  brings  them  nearer  to 
each  other.  I  feel  that  you  are  nearer  to  me  than 
you  have  ever  been." 

"  All  the  same,"  said  Annie,  after  a  moment's  re- 
flection, "  I  fancy  that  only  a  Frenchwoman  could 
ever  really  understand  a  Frenchman." 

Just  as  she  said  this,  Madame  d'Anguilhon  came  into 
the  room.  On  seeing  the  husband  and  wife  hand  in 
hand,  she  was  going  out  again,  but  her  son  begged 
her  to  stay. 

"  Come  here,  mother,"  he  said.  "  We  have  something 
to  tell  you  which  will  make  you  happy.  You  must 
have  noticed  that  we  were  no  longer  on  the  same  terms 
as  formerly,"  he  began,  in  an  embarrassed  tone. 

"  Yes,  and  it  grieved  me  very  much  to  see  this.'* 

"  Well,  we  are  friends  again.  I  had  broken  certain 
promises  and  caused  Annie  much  sorrow,  but  she  has 
forgiven " 


462  AMERICAN  NOBILITY 

"  Like  all  the  Marchionesses  d'Anguilhon,"  said  the 
Dowager  Marchioness,  laying  her  hand  on  her  daughter- 
in-law's  shoulder.  "  It  is  all  the  more  noble  of  you, 
my  child,  as  you  have  been  brought  up  with  different 
ideas  and  you  have  made  such  sacrifices  for  your 
husband's  sake." 

"Oh,  I  do  not  regret  them,  I  have  never  regretted 
them,"  replied  Annie,  eagerly. 

"  You  must  go  and  spend  a  few  months  in  America," 
said  Madame  d'Anguilhon.  "  You  might  travel  with 
the  Keradieus,  as  they  are  not  going  until  the  end  of 
June.    Jacques  will  have  time  to  get  quite  well." 

Annie  looked  at  her  husband  anxiously. 

"Yes,  we  will  certainly  go  to  America,"  he  said. 
"  It  was  my  intention  to  propose  the  same  thing." 

Annie's  face  beamed  with  joy.  She  would  have 
liked  to  kiss  Jacques'  hand,  but  she  did  not  dare. 
She  pressed  it  against  her  cheek,  with  a  delightful 
feeling  of  possession. 

"  I  am  so  happy,"  she  said,  gently. 


CHAPTER  XXXII 

Madame  d'Anguilhon  was  too  much  a  woman  not 
to  know  that  the  neighbourhood  of  Christiane's  house 
was  very  bad  for  her  son  just  then.  She  asked  the 
doctor  to  order  him  away  to  Blonay  at  once,  and 
Jacques  did  not  raise  any  objection. 

His  convalescence  had  been  interrupted  by  the  shock 
he  had  had,  so  that  for  some  weeks  neither  the  open 
air  nor  the  forces  of  the  spring  season  took  any  efifect 
on  him. 

Jacques  had  seen  Madame  de  Blanzac  for  the  last 
time  in  excellent  health.  Her  death  seemed  to  him, 
at  times,  impossible,  and  at  other  times,  mysterious. 
He  did  not  believe  in  the  alleged  congestion  of  the 
lungs.  The  more  he  reread  her  farewell  letter,  the 
more  convinced  he  was  that  she  had  tried  to  die,  and 
that  something  was  being  concealed  from  him.  He 
could  see  her  distinctly,  as  she  was  after  that  terrible 
scene.  He  saw  her  walk  away  through  the  long  suite 
of  reception  rooms,  gradually  look  smaller,  and  then 
disappear  altogether.  This  impression,  standing  out 
so  curiously  in  his  brain,  gave  him  a  sensation  of 
utter  desolation.  He  did  not  know  that  his  love  had 
then  received  its  death-blow  and  that  he  would  never 
have  found  the  same  happiness  again  with  Christiane. 
He  did  not  know  how  merciful  God  had  been  in  call- 
ing her  back  to  Him.    He  could  not  possibly  know 

463 


404  AMERICAN  NOBILITY 

all  this  and  he  deplored  her  loss  passionately.  Hi8 
grief  and  the  morbid  thoughts  it  engendered  had  the 
most  baneful  effect  on  him,  physically  and  mentally. 
He  always  felt  extremely  weary,  he  slept  badly,  and 
the  paleness  of  anaemia  could  be  seen  on  his  face.  He 
took  no  interest  in  anything,  not  even  in  Blonay  and 
its  life.  Out  of  delicacy,  he  made  a  great  effort  to 
hide  his  sadness  when  Annie  and  his  mother  were 
present.  He  had  never  appreciated  his  wife's  char- 
acter as  much  as  during  this  trying  time.  She  did 
not  ask  him  any  embarrassing  questions,  nor  did  she 
torment  him  with  little  attentions  and  he  was  deeply 
grateful  to  her  for  her  tact. 

The  joy  of  being  reconciled  with  her  husband,  and 
the  thought  of  seeing  her  family  again,  drove  all  pain- 
ful memories  away  from  Annie's  mind.  Jacques' 
changed  looks  did  not  alarm  or  distress  her  very  much. 
She  was  quite  sure  that  the  sea  voyage  to  America 
would  quite  cure  him.  One  thing  alone  made  her 
anxious,  and  that  was  that  he  never  spoke  of  their 
departure.  She  was  afraid  lest  he  should  find  some 
pretext,  at  the  last  moment,  for  staying  behind  at 
Blonay,  and  sending  her  with  the  Keradieus.  She  was 
always  throwing  out  feelers,  after  the  manner  of 
women. 

"  We  will  do  this  or  that,'*  she  would  say,  "  when 
we  are  in  New  York." 

"  Yes,"  he  would  reply,  invariably,  "  anything  you 
like." 

The  way  in  which  he  said  this  was  not  very  encourag- 
ing. Annie  could  not  understand  that  the  idea  of 
visiting  a  new  country,  and  such  a  country  as  America, 
should  be  a  matter  of  such  indifference  to  him. 

No,  Jacques  cared  little,  just  now,  about  the  bay 


AMERICAN  NOBILITY  465 

of  New  York,  Brooklyn  Bridge,  or  any  of  the  great 
sights  of  the  New  World.  All  he  wanted  was  to  go 
and  kneel  at  Christiane's  grave  and  to  feel  that  he  was 
near  her  for  a  few  moments.  He  thought  of  this,  day 
and  night,  and  he  could  not  start  before  he  had  been 
there.  He  did  not  like  to  tell  his  wife  of  his  intention 
to  go  to  Blanzac  and  he  knew  that  she  would  feel 
hurt  if  he  went  without  telling  her. 

The  young  Marchioness  had  been  wise  enough  not 
to  banish  Christiane's  name  from  their  conversation. 
She  often  spoke  of  her  with  her  old  admiration,  as  of 
a  dear  friend.  The  first  time  she  had  mentioned  her, 
Jacques  had  looked  at  her  in  astonishment  and  had 
felt  wounded,  for  it  had  seemed  to  him  like  a  pro- 
fanation. Was  she  already  so  far  away  that  Annie 
should  dare  to  speak  of  her  like  that  ?  Simple  natures 
are  always  somewhat  disconcerting  to  complex 
ones. 

One  evening,  when  Jacques  was  pretending  to  read, 
in  order  to  avoid  having  to  talk,  Annie  suddenly 
said: 

"  Jacques,  shall  you  not  go  to  Blanzac  before  we 
leave?    We  only  have  ten  days  now,  remember." 

Her  husband  started  and  let  his  book  fall  from  his 
hand. 

"To  Blanzac?"  he  repeated,  his  face  turning  red. 
"Yes,  I  had  thought  of  going — ^you  do  not  mind?" 

"  No,  what  I  should  mind  would  be  if,  out  of  con- 
sideration for  me,  you  refrained  from  going,  and  when 
we  were  once  in  America  you  should  begin  to  regret 
it.  You  would  be  quite  capable  of  shortening  our 
stay,  or  of  leaving  me  in  the  lurch  out  there,  while 
you  came  back  to  go  to  Blanzac.  I  am  beginning  to 
know  you,"  she  added,  with  a  smile. 

30 


466  AMERICAN  NOBILITY 

Jacques  rose  from  his  seat  and  paced  up  and  down 
the  room  for  a  few  minutes,  trying  to  master  his 
emotion. 

« Well,"  he  said,  at  last,  « I  think  I  will  go  to- 
morrow. I  will  stay  the  night  in  Paris  and  get  back 
here  the  day  after." 

Then,  like  a  child  who,  after  obtaining  some  coveted 
permission,  feels  inclined  to  do  everything  he  is  asked 
and  more  besides  he  added: 

"  When  I  get  back,  I  will  finish  all  my  arrangements. 
I  have  been  dreadfully  lazy,  lately.  How  are  you 
getting  on  with  your  preparations?" 

"  Oh,  I  am  nearly  ready.  Neither  Catherine  nor  I 
needed  any  urging  on,  I  can  assure  you.  I  warn  you 
that  we  shall  have  an  awful  amount  of  luggage." 

Ah,  how  little  he  cared  now  how  much  luggage  they 
had!  She  might  take  hundreds  of  trunks  for  all  he 
cared. 

"Annie,  I  have  been  very  selfish  and  cruel  to  keep 
you  so  long  a  time  from  your  family,"  said  Jacques, 
remorsefully. 

"Oh,  it  does  not  matter,  now,"  she  answered, 
promptly.  "  I  shall  have  all  the  more  pleasure  in 
seeing  every  one  again.  There  are  more  changes  in 
America  in  six  years  than  in  Europe  in  twenty,  so 
that  it  will  be  like  going  to  a  new  country." 

"Well,  you  may  pride  yourself  on  being  good- 
natured."  . 

"Every  cloud  has  a  silver  lining  and  I  only  look 
on  the  bright  side.  It  is  the  only  way  to  be  happy 
in  this  world  and  to  have  a  good  time." 

"  At  any  rate,  it  is  the  way  to  make  others  happy," 
said  the  Marquis. 

Only  a  Frenchwoman  of  very  elevated  character  or 


AMERICAN  NOBILITY  467 

a  very  shrewd  woman  could  have  acted  in  the  way 
Annie  did,  and  even  then  it  would  have  required  the 
most  heroic  effort.  The  young  American  woman  little 
thought  how  dangerous  the  freshly-made  grave  of  a 
rival  might  prove.  She  had  no  idea  of  the  communion 
that  may  exist  between  the  living  and  the  dead.  She 
would  simply  have  thought  it  ridiculous  and  petty  to 
be  jealous  now  of  Christiane.  She  was  quite  con- 
vinced that  she  had  the  better  part  and  that  was  quite 
enough  for  her.  She  thought  that  Jacques  might  like 
to  see  the  Duchess's  grave.  Her  comprehension  did  not 
go  beyond  the  actual  "  seeing  the  grave."  She  had 
suggested  it  by  way  of  putting  him  at  his  ease,  and 
also  in  order  that  he  might  not  be  tempted  to  go  there 
without  telling  her.  Oh,  yes,  she  thought  she  was 
beginning  to  know  him  thoroughly  now. 

On  hearing  what  Annie  had  suggested,  Madame 
d'Anguilhon  could  not  help  exclaiming:  "Oh,  what 
a  dear  child  she  is,  and  what  greatness  there  is  in 
her  simplicity! " 

The  following  day,  the  Marquis  started  for  Paris, 
as  he  had  proposed.  There  was  no  sign  of  languor 
about  him.  It  was  as  though  he  had  taken  some 
powerful  elixir. 

He  put  up  at  the  H6tel  de  Castiglione  and  spent 
the  evening  in  his  rooms,  in  order  not  to  risk  meeting 
any  acquaintances.  The  following  day,  he  went  first 
to  La  Rosette.  He  knew  how  painful  this  pilgrim- 
age would  be,  but  he  felt  that  he  ought  to  make  it. 
Then,  too,  he  knew  he  would  find  something  of  Chris- 
tiane there,  the  last  traces  of  her  here  below. 

The  sight  of  Toni  in  deep  mourning,  and  of  her  thin 
face,  with  its  severe  and  even  hard  expression,  gave 
him  a  pang  at  his  heart.     The  old  nurse  had  been  with 


468  AMERICAN  NOBILITY 

Christiane,  day  and  night,  up  to  the  last  moment.  She 
may  have  guessed  that  the  Marquis  was,  in  some  way, 
responsible  for  her  death.  It  may  have  been  that,  on 
seeing  him,  she  was  too  deeply  moved  to  speak.  At 
any  rate,  she  did  not  utter  a  word,  but  merely  opened 
the  silent,  empty  villa  for  him. 

As  soon  as  he  entered,  Jacques  staggered  and  was 
obliged  to  lean  against  the  wall.  The  air  was  still 
impregnated  with  Christiane's  subtle  perfume.  This 
gave  him  the  impression  that  she  was  there.  He 
thought  that  he  felt  her  presence  and  this  sensation 
was  both  horrible  and  sweet.  Memories  of  their  love 
and  happiness  awoke  within  him  in  this  desolate  dwell- 
ing, causing  him  the  most  exquisite  suffering.  Ah,  the 
cage  was  really  empty.  All  the  doors  were  wide  open. 
There  was  no  light  and  there  were  no  plants.  There 
was  nothing  living.  The  very  furniture  had  been 
pushed  against  the  wall  and  had  the  rigidness  of 
things  which  are  no  longer  in  contact  with  human 
beings.  Jacques  was  chilled  to  the  heart.  He  en- 
tered her  bedroom  and,  closing  the  door  after  him,  he 
went  and  knelt  down  by  the  side  of  the  bed.  He  buried 
his  face  in  this  couch,  which  was  now  as  cold  and 
hard  as  a  coffin,  and  he  expiated  their  love  and  their 
forbidden  communion,  her  sin  and  all  his  sins.  Under 
the  influence  of  this  impression  of  silence  and  death, 
a  religious  sentiment  awoke  in  his  heart  and  purified 
it,  as  a  living  flame  might  have  done.  When  he  rose 
from  his  knees,  his  face  wore  the  devout,  serene  ex- 
pression which  prayer  gives  to  it.  On  looking  round, 
he  saw  a  little  sprig  of  boxwood  above  the  holy-water 
vessel.  It  was  the  boxwood  that  had  remained  from 
last  Palm  Sunday.  He  took  it  down  and  put  it  away 
in  his  pocketbook.     A  few  minutes  later.  Monsieur 


AMERICAN  NOBILITY  469 

d'Anguilhon  went  away,  taking  with  him  a  beautiful 
bunch  of  roses  for  the  Duchess's  grave.  He  looked 
round  again  as  he  left,  bidding  farewell  to  this  dwell- 
ing, where  their  lives  had  been  united  for  some  time. 
He  could  not  help  feeling  joy  at  the  thought  that  it 
was  to  be  pulled  down  and  that  it  would  never  be 
profaned  by  another  love. 

The  Marquis  arrived  at  Orleans  at  three  o'clock. 
Blanzac  was  half  an  hour's  drive  from  there.  He  went 
straight  to  the  old  chapel,  leaving  the  carriage  in  the 
road.  By  taking  a  cross-road,  he  soon  reached  a  heap 
of  freshly  cut  flowers,  which  marked  the  spot  where 
Ohristiane  lay. 

The  gi-ave  of  a  person  who  has  belonged  to  us,  and 
wbom  we  have  loved,  affects  us  differently  from  that 
of  a  relative.  Something  mysterious  seems  to  emanate 
from  it.  Just  at  first,  more  particularly,  we  feel  dis- 
tinctly that  the  bond  is  not  entirely  broken  and  that 
love  is  really  stronger  than  death.  Jacques'  knees 
had  scarcely  touched  the  earth  which  covered  the 
Duchess,  when  he  felt  a  strange  happiness.  No 
she  had  not  quite  gone.  The  idea  of  her  disappear- 
ance, which  had  caused  him  such  anguish,  left  him 
completely.  It  seemed  to  him  that  he  had  found  her 
again  and  a  little  joy  mingled  with  his  sorrow.  He 
spoke  a  few  tender  words  to  her.  He  promised  her 
that  he  would  do  some  good  in  the  world,  as  she  had 
asked  him,  and  that  he  would  never,  never  forget  her. 
He  stayed  there  a  long  time,  for  he  could  not  make 
up  his  mind  to  leave  her.  Twice  he  started  away 
and  then  came  back  again,  as  though  she  were  keeping 
him  there.  Before  leaving,  he  looked  all  round.  It 
was  just  the  kind  of  sepulchre  for  which  she  had 
always  wished.   The  trees  that  grew  on  the  hill  stopped 


470  AMERICAN  NOBILITY 

about  fifty  yards  away  and  encircled  her  grave  and 
the  old  chapel,  like  a  sacred  place.  When  he  thought 
of  her  last  wish,  he  was  deeply  moved.  She  had  wished 
to  sleep  the  last  long  sleep  alone.  He  guessed  why — 
she  was  faithful  even  beyond  death. 


The  visit  to  Christiane's  grave  drove  away  all 
Jacques'  morbid  ideas,  leaving  in  his  soul  one  of  those 
salutary  griefs  which  temper  a  man's  character. 

On  returning  home,  he  began  to  take  an  active  in- 
terest in  his  affairs.  By  way  of  pleasing  Annie,  he 
declared  that  he  was  delighted  now  to  be  going  to 
America.  He  promised  to  be  quite  pleasant  to  every 
one,  even  to  her  two  aunts. 

On  the  twenty-third  of  June,  Jacques  and  Annie 
started  from  Blonay,  leaving  Madame  d'Anguilhon 
there  with  little  Philippe.  They  met  the  Keradieus  at 
Havre,  and  also  Guy  de  Nozay,  and  several  other 
friends  who  were  there  to  see  them  off.  Annie  had 
invited  Guy  to  accompany  them.  He  declined,  but  had 
promised  to  go  with  them  on  their  next  journey. 
Actuated  by  a  chivalrous  sentiment,  that  was  very 
characteristic  of  him,  he  had  not  cared  to  desert 
Christiane.  Every  one  was  going  away,  so  that  he 
would  stay. 

When  the  Touraine  actually  started,  Catherine's  face 
beamed  with  delight. 

"  At  last,  Miss  Annie,"  she  exclaimed  joyfully,  "  we 
are  on  the  way." 

"  I  really  begin  to  believe  we  are  going,"  said  Annie, 
smiling. 

"  It  is  six  years  since  you  left  New  York,  is  it  not?  " 
asked  Madame  de  Keradieu. 


AMERICAN  NOBILITY  471 

"  Yes,  six  years.  If  any  one  had  told  me  then,  that 
I  should  be  six  years  without  going  back  to  America, 
I  should  have  been  in  despair.  And  the  six  years  have 
passed  like  a  dream ! " 


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